


Milky Weeds

by Akumeoi



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive MinAo, Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Music, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Character Development, Dysfunctional Family, Eventual Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internet, Long-Distance Friendship, Loving Sex, M/M, Minor Clear/Seragaki Sei, Musician Aoba, Mutual Pining, Platinum Jail, Scrap (DRAMAtical Murder), Slow Burn, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, romantic smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-08-13 00:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 127,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7955197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akumeoi/pseuds/Akumeoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While living with Mink, Aoba becomes a rising online musician known as Bluejay, so named for the little bird mascot he created to advertise his work. Though he doesn't realise it, he is well on the way to stardom. At the same time, his relationships with his family and with Mink are steadily deteriorating, though Aoba won't let himself acknowledge it. When everything finally implodes, Aoba has to turn to his internet friends RuffRabbit and Crystal_Jelly for help. Aoba has to sort out his tangled feelings for Mink, Koujaku, and himself while rebuilding his life from the ground up, or he may never be able to go home.</p><p>(Aoba is Goatbed, Mink is an asshole, and Koujaku is PTSD Prince Charming, as usual. To be clear, KouAo is endgame.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_Once upon a time, a bluejay lived in a cage in the forest. Maybe other birds would have minded being in a cage, but Bluejay didn’t, because he loved to sing. He lived with his best friend, Pip, an egg who he sat on all day and talked to all the time. Sometimes Pip would sing, too, but because the song had to come out of the shell of an egg it always sounded pretty funny. Together Bluejay and Pip would watch other birds fly by and hoped that one of them would stop to hear them sing._

_But Bluejay and Pip weren’t completely alone, because Bluejay had a mate, a pink cockatiel, who lived freely in the forest. Because Cockatiel could fly anywhere he wanted, he would bring Bluejay all the news from the woods and then sometimes Bluejay would sing about it. Sometimes other birds would visit, but Cockatiel was Bluejay’s favourite._

_And so the three birds lived together in the woods, and Bluejay sang._

\---

“What do you think, Pip?” Aoba smirked, ruffling Ren’s soft blue fur.

Ren let out a world-weary sigh, which rumbled through his doggy little throat and made Aoba laugh with its seriousness. “I don’t know why you insist on calling me ‘Pip’, but this story certainly corresponds to the wishes of your friends,” Ren said.

Ah, yes, Aoba’s online friends. RuffRabbit and Crystal_Jelly, respectively. Ruff had told Aoba to brand himself to get more views, and Crystal_Jelly had said to use birds because Aoba had objected to using a jellyfish, so this should satisfy them both. Almost all of Aoba’s music – all his best music, anyway – was inspired by stuff that happened in his life. So, Aoba’s new mascot, Bluejay, was Aoba himself. Cockatiel was Mink, and Ren was a cute little egg. That should make things nice and easy to remember.

Smirking to himself, the newly christened Bluejay hit “post”.

[ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S4Nrk5x5doc)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beautiful cover image drawn by @Blacksprut/hereoctopusdumplings on tumblr. [[X](http://hereoctopusdumplings.tumblr.com/post/153787034466/for-akumeoi-and-their-fanfiction-i-always-wait)] Thank you!!  
> (The music player was designed by [geokal81](http://geokal81.deviantart.com/art/mini-music-player-303023212) on DeviantART.)
> 
> This work is going to be very long, if finished, so please bear with me. Also, I warn you that the author's notes are ridiculously long. I will give trigger warnings for each individual chapter, since the fic does not have any archive warnings on it.
> 
> Aoba's account name is Sly Blue. The name of his character is Bluejay, but they frequently get confused. The website Aoba posts his music to is called Ensou, which is a thing I totally made up just now.
> 
> A couple of facts about this AU (if you're interested):  
> -Toue isn't evil anymore  
> -Aoba is 21  
> -Ren is just a robot dog (lol)  
> -Noiz can feel pain but he's still a little shit
> 
> The rest will all be revealed soon! Questions and comments always welcome!


	2. Common Route

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be aware that there will be heavily implied dubcon at the end of this chapter. If you would like to skip it, please stop a few paragraphs before the end of "Mink" and go straight to "Ren".

**NOIZ**

[](https://youtu.be/48X2a5-t2Qw)

“Hello, this is the Heibon Junk Shop. How can I help you?”

“Hello, is this Sly Blue?”

Aoba bolted upright and nearly dropped the phone in his shock. “Who is this? How did you get my number?” he hissed into the receiver.

“So it is you,” said the voice on the other end, sounding amused, and Aoba scowled. Stupid, stupid. If only he had said, “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” and just hung up. Now there was no way of getting out of talking to this guy.

“Yeah, so what? Who is this?” Aoba said again.

“You know, even when you’re mad, your voice is really soothing,” said the man, who Aoba noticed had some kind of unrecognisable foreign accent. “Maybe you should be a singer instead of a musician. By the way, this is Noiz.”

Noiz? Noiz? “I don’t know anyone called Noiz,” Aoba said. Well, this guy obviously knew that he was Sly Blue, the musician, not just Sly Blue, the juvenile delinquent… which was definitely a phase Aoba had grown out of by now. He had a steady job and a hobby and a live-in boyfriend and everything. 

“No? Well how about Ruff Rabbit,” Noiz said. When he said those words his accent intensified, so Aoba had to replay them in his mind for a few moments before realising Noiz was saying the words he would have pronounced as “Rafu Rabito”. Then it clicked. 

“Oh,” said Aoba. 

RuffRabbit, Aoba’s first-ever internet friend. “Friend” was a loose term. Aoba knew that Ruff lived overseas, liked rabbits (that one was just inference), spent most of his time involved with some kind of virtual reality computer game called Rhyme, and was very, very good with computers. As in, hacking-the-governement-level good. Good enough to figure out where Aoba worked and then call just to mess with him.

“You’re wasting my airtime, here. I could be making money,” Aoba complained, starting to play with the phone cord by winding it around his fingers. “And how did you get my number?” 

Ruff – er, Noiz, replied, “I hacked into your email account and read your calendar. But don’t be mad, I just wanted to say hi. If you miss any sales for this, I’ll pay you, okay?”

Aoba rolled his eyes, knowing that Noiz was about as likely to spend money on him as he was to fly to Midorijima and give him a lollipop. “Sure you will,” Aoba said. “What other stuff did you stick your nose in? What’s my name, huh?”

“I don’t know,” Noiz said, sounding irritated. “I don’t have that much time to waste on you. I just thought I could call you up and talk to you. Stop taking this so seriously.”

By now, Aoba had managed to wrap the telephone cord around his entire hand. “Okay, fine,” he said, because he wasn’t really all that mad. “Just don’t go through any of my other stuff, got it?”

Noiz groaned. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Listen, you know that song you just posted? _Hikari_ , or whatever it was?”

Yes, Aoba had just posted a song called Hikari to his Ensou account. _Ensou_ was the website he always posted his music too. It was really convenient because he could do all kinds of things with it, including put a theme on his homepage, upload little pictures of birds to match the song descriptions, chat with other users privately, leave comments and reply to comments, and even hold a private group chat. Not that Aoba drew the pictures for his account himself. He had absolutely no interest in drawing or photoshopping anything, but he had somehow managed to make friends who wanted to do it for him. Because of that, his account was very professional-looking, which Noiz assured him would help him attract more listeners to his music. Aoba didn’t write his music for other people, per se, but he liked it when they commented things like, “this is really good” or “this made me want to dance”. Now that he had his little bird mascots, it was nice when they said things like, “I like Bluejay” or “Pip is really cute”. 

For Hikari, Aoba had requested a picture of Bluejay sitting with Pip and looking at the stars. He thought that the song and the picture were innocuous enough, but maybe Noiz thought otherwise. Noiz was notorious for leaving rudely-worded comments that was actually very constructive criticism. If Aoba cared to decipher them, that was.

“What about it?” Aoba asked. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Noiz said.

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

“That song is so depressing. What’s wrong with you? Spit it out. Your Allmate die or something?”

“What? No, it’s a lullaby,” Aoba said, unsure if Noiz was pulling his leg or was genuinely, if wrongly, concerned. Aoba’s fingers were starting to turn purple, so he wriggled them a little and started trying to untangle the cord from around them. 

“A lullaby, huh? If you tried to rock your kids to sleep with that, they’d just start crying,” Noiz said sceptically. “Are you sure that’s what it’s supposed to be?”

“Why do you me to be in trouble so badly?” Aoba said, wiggling his now-freed pinky and watching as it turned back to a normal colour. “Everything’s fine with me and Mi – my boyfriend - Cockatiel. He and I are going on a date tonight. Why would I be unhappy?”

Cockatiel was the nickname Aoba had given to Mink on the internet, after Mink’s Allmate, Tori. Mink/Cockatiel was a necessary part of the musical little world Aoba had constructed, because many of Aoba’s songs were dedicated to, inspired by, or otherwise influenced by Mink. Why shouldn’t they be, when Aoba and Mink had been living together for a good six months now? 

Noiz sighed loudly, his voice dissolving into a rush of static. “Yeah, okay, so look. The last four songs you wrote were all really depressing. It’s not just this one. And this Cockatiel thing. Y’know, he never lets Bluejay out of the cage. That’s really – that’s not –”

Aoba had stopped paying attention at “this Cockatiel thing,” because at that very moment, Haga-san walked in. Aoba panicked.

“Thank you for your patronage, please call us again!” Aoba yelled into the phone, and slammed it down, or tried to. Because the phone cord was still wrapped around his fingers, the phone bounced out of the cradle, skittered out of Aoba’s grasp, and came to rest dangling over the edge of the desk. Very clearly, Aoba heard Noiz say “What the fuck?” and then a click. 

Aoba hardly dared to raise his head and see Haga-san’s expression. Certain that his face was bright red from embarrassment, Aoba slowly disentangled his fingers and replaced the phone in its cradle. 

“What was that about?” Haga-san said sternly, no doubt wondering if Aoba had just hung up on a paying customer. 

“I, um,” Aoba started. “That guy, he was, y’know, flirting with me. Which is pretty weird because I’m taken now so, I hung up on him. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again?”

Now that Aoba dared to look up, he saw Haga-san’s features relax into sympathetic understanding. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “If that customer calls again, I’ll speak to him for you. By the way, I was just coming to let you know that a new shipment of parts has just been delivered. I’ll be adding them to the catalogue now, but I’ll need you to check the entries and make any necessary sales or returns.”

“Got it,” Aoba said. Haga-san looked him up and down, perhaps noticing that Aoba’s fist was clenched because the receiver had bounced up and smacked him on its short, ignoble flight. 

“Think you can handle everything up here?” said Haga-san, which was his way of expressing concern for his sometimes clumsy shop assistant. 

“Yep,” said Aoba, doing his best to look earnest and capable. With that, Haga-san retreated to the back of the shop. Aoba let out a sigh of relief and slumped in his chair. 

Honesty, what had Noiz been thinking? That had been one strange phone call. First, there was the fact that Noiz had told him his name. Aoba realised he might have done it as a peace offering in case Aoba got mad at him for going into his mail. Which Aoba wasn’t, because the only things in there were spam and notifications about his Sly Blue Ensou account. 

But then, there was Noiz’s commentary on Hikari. Aoba was, well, a bit put out. Lately, Aoba had been hit with a severe case of writer’s block. On days when he didn’t have work, Aoba would get up, wait until Mink left, go to the computer, play around with the midi keyboard and the mixing software for a while, and end up with a big fat mess of nothing at all five hours later. If he managed to make a melody or a beat that he liked, he could never figure out what the rest of the song was supposed to be, so he’d dump everything he’d made into the demo folder or just plain delete it.

Hikari had been Aoba’s first semi-decent song in a month. Although it had taken a significant amount of fooling around in Cubase, not to mention endless tinkering with the keyboard, Aoba was fairly proud of how it had turned out. And now Noiz thought it was depressing? Maybe Aoba should change the name to _Namida_ just to spite him. But then Aoba would have to ask Clear to change the picture that accompanied it. So that was out. 

A few moments later, Aoba realised that he had been daydreaming and not paying attention to his work again. He looked around guiltily, but nobody but the eyes in the “69” on the wall had seen him spacing out. Turning his attention back to the computer and phone in front of him, Aoba pulled up the catalogue, checked Haga-san’s new entries, and waited for someone to call. 

-

**CLEAR**

Clear, alias Crystal_Jelly, was the artist who drew all of the pictures for Aoba’s story about Bluejay and Cockatiel. Although Clear wasn’t the most technically skilled artist, he made up for it with style. His line-art drawings of Bluejay, Cockatiel, and Pip were always cute and lively, which Aoba’s small online audience always appreciated. Aoba knew Clear’s name because he had announced it in the very first comment he posted to Aoba’s music, on a song called “Cool Voices”:

[](https://youtu.be/BdcVAq3DtEw)

“Hello! I’m Clear, and I really love this song! It’s amazing! It sounds like a choir of angels singing to me. Thank you for sharing your beautiful music with the people on the internet. I will follow your account now!”

Aoba had felt a little bad, reading that, since “Cool Voices” was just a drabble he’d been playing around with and decided to dump on the account because, well, it was cool. After Clear’s comment, he had extended the song, added a few more layers to emphasize the melody, and renamed it “Angel Song”. After he made up the Bluejay story, he went around renaming all his old music and adding descriptions to it so that it would match, but he hadn’t had the heart to rename “Angel Song”, since Clear liked it so much just the way it was. Clear had that kind of effect on people. Even Noiz somehow got along with him. 

Noiz’s first comment, on Aoba’s song “Hustle”, was this:

[](https://youtu.be/vKyy5nwuGGo)

“This is way too repetitive. It reminds me of a shitty third rate club that overuses the fog machine and has an underpaid DJ. Please add some more to the melody line before I fall into a coma. The counter-melody is good, though. If only I could hear it.”

But that was neither here nor there. Although Noiz had just taken it upon himself to harass Aoba at work, Clear would never do something like that, so Aoba wouldn’t be talking to him until tomorrow. 

-

**SEI**

Aoba spent the rest of his shift working diligently, checking Haga-san’s new catalogue entries and taking customers’ calls as professionally as he knew how. Noiz did not call back, which was fine by Aoba. Completely immersing himself in work, Aoba almost forgot about that strange phone call. Although work at Heibon wasn’t exactly intellectual, there was still the satisfaction of completing something, of setting everything in order and being able to admire his work afterwards. So Aoba passed a fairly pleasant afternoon, undisturbed by anyone other than valid customers. 

Around five minutes before the end of Aoba’s shift, the bell on the shop door rang as someone came in. Since it was so close to closing time, Aoba intended to say “Sorry, please come back another time” to the person who had just come in, but when he saw who it was, the words died in his throat. Aoba’s stomach felt like he had just dropped out the bottom of an elevator. 

It was his brother, Sei.

Sei looked nervous and ill-at-ease, his fedora pulled low on his forehead and long bangs swinging forward to hide his soft features. His shoulders were hunched, but Aoba noticed that he was wearing the white shirt with a big pink heart on it that Aoba had bought for him once. This gesture only made Aoba more upset.

“What are you doing here?” Aoba said, standing up abruptly. Sei flinched, but then drew himself up with a shaky breath. 

“Aoba,” he began in his meek and gentle voice. Aoba could see and feel how much it hurt Sei to be here before him, and his own throat constricted in sympathy. He swallowed hard and scowled as Sei continued talking.

“I just wanted to see you,” Sei said softly. “I’ve been having dreams, and I thought – well, I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Of course, Sei wouldn’t come because he wanted something for himself. He had come on Aoba’s behalf. Aoba’s stomach clenched.

“I’m fine,” Aoba said roughly. “You risked making Granny mad to come here just because of some dreams you’ve been having?”

Sei shifted awkwardly. “Aoba… Granny isn’t really angry with you. She’s just worried about you. Like I am. Please come home? Just once? Just for dinner?”

There was Sei, being optimistic and hopeful like he always was. The night Aoba had left Granny’s house, she had been angrier than Aoba had ever seen, threatening to disown him, to call the police, to never let Sei speak to him again. There was no way she’d let Aoba back in her house just like that, just because Sei was sad and wanted them all to hold hands and get along together. Aoba wished that he could believe in a dream like that, but his choice was already made. He lived with Mink now, and Sei would just have to accept that. 

It still hurt. 

“You know I can’t,” Aoba said, scowling down at his own hands. “Listen, Sei, I’m sorry. I told you that a thousand times. But I can’t just go back.” Internally, he begged that Sei would understand. Arguing with his brother was just so exhausting. Sei… Damn it all. 

Sei scuffed one of his boots on the concrete floor. “Hey, are you still making music?” he said abruptly. 

Aoba thought of the hours he had spent on Hikari, all of the effort it had taken him to extract the melody from random snippets of notes. All of the time he spent every day trying to put a beat down in Cubase, only to have nothing to fill it out with. 

“Of course,” he said. “Now, come on, the shop is closing.” Aoba turned off the computer and shoved a few things into his bag, overly conscious of Sei’s presence in the room, though Sei was still swinging one of his feet back and forth, staring fixedly down at his boots. When Aoba’s work station was clear, he turned and started heading for the door. But Sei moved to block his way. 

“Aoba, stop,” Sei ordered, his voice suddenly edged in steel. Aoba froze. 

“I’m worried about you, and I’m not leaving here until you tell me what’s going on. I know things aren’t alright. You would know if there was something wrong with me, so don’t try to deny it. If it’s not something with your music, it has to be something with Mink. Or even this job or something, it doesn’t matter. Aoba –”

“No,” Aoba snapped, pushing past Sei. “There’s nothing wrong with me, and I don’t care if you think there is. Go back to Granny and leave me alone.” With that, he threw open the door and stomped outside… walking right into Mink’s arms.

-

**MINK**

“Aoba,” Mink said, as Aoba collided with his midsection. Just then, the door to Heibon opened again, and Sei came outside, looking like he still had something to say. As soon as he saw Mink, he let out a little squeak of surprise and took a step back. 

“Mink-san, good evening!” Sei stuttered, tipping his hat. When Mink didn’t reply, Sei jammed his hat back on his head, gave Aoba one frightened little glance, and then turned tail and walked rapidly away.

“That your brother?” Mink said, setting Aoba back on his feet, not unkindly. 

“Yeah,” Aoba said, gazing after Sei as he rounded the street corner. “Yeah, he was just saying hi.”

“Mm,” said Mink, stepping back. Behind him, his motorcycle was parked straight on the wide brick sidewalk. Normally, Aoba would have just walked home, but tonight he and Mink were going out to eat together. Earlier, Aoba had been looking forward to spending time with Mink, to riding on his motorcycle, to doing something different on a Friday evening. Seeing Sei had left him feeling shaken, and now he almost wanted to just go home, get take-out, and maybe watch some stupid TV. 

Ah, well. Planning this date had taken Aoba far too long to give up on it now. Maybe he would still be able to have a good time, if he could just put his brother’s visit out of his mind. 

“Well?” Mink said, and Aoba realised that Mink was waiting for him to give some sign that he was ready to hop on the bike and go. 

“Sorry,” Aoba said, a little bashfully. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

“Gotta stop off on the way,” Mink said, as he and Aoba seated themselves on the motorcycle. “Just five minutes.”

“Sure,” Aoba said easily. Once they were both on the bike, Mink in front, Aoba behind, Mink started the ignition, drove the bike off the sidewalk and back into the street, and then they were off.

Riding the motorcycle with Mink was Aoba’s favourite way to get anywhere, but it was a fairly rare treat for him. For one thing, he got to hold Mink, even if it was from behind. This sort of meaningless physical intimacy was hard for Mink, but Aoba craved it. Mink was so solidly built that he wouldn’t notice if Aoba was squeezing his stomach with all his strength, so Aoba always took the opportunity to snuggle up to Mink’s back and bury his face in Mink’s jacket or hair. 

As for the actual sensations of riding a motorcycle – the wind, the speed – Aoba didn’t really care about those as much. It was fun to go fast, for sure, but Aoba didn’t doubt that this form of transportation would become mundane pretty fast if it weren’t for Mink being there. And besides, his sensitive hair sometimes got blown around so much that it became painful, not to mention the detangling that would have to take place after. Aoba secretly wished he had a helmet, but Mink never seemed to need one, so why should he?

As Mink drove away from the junk shop and started making his way through the east quarter of the Old Resident district, Aoba clung tightly to his back and tried to lose himself in the motion and the rushing wind, Mink’s solid back a marvellous anchor. Slowly, his wound-up muscles began to relax, and the melody of one of his own songs, one he was thinking about turning into a motorcycle-riding song, began to play in his mind. Just as Aoba felt that maybe he was calm again, Mink’s bike screeched to a halt. 

Aoba sat up and let go of Mink’s waist as Mink slung one leg over the bike and got off. 

Tossing the keys to Aoba, Mink said, “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Aoba and Mink exchanged nods, and Mink was off down the small alleyway they had parked next to. 

This street was fairly boring, a run-down, dirty sidestreet that Aoba would never have paid much attention to in any circumstance. Most likely Mink was here to pick up something from one of the men who served under him. Mink’s day job was the head of a mercenary band of sorts. That is, people who needed protection would pay Mink and his men to keep thieves or other miscreants away. Most of Mink’s men were ex-convicts who couldn’t get jobs anywhere else, so Aoba admired Mink for being willing to give them a second chance. The few of them he had met had been very respectful and courteous towards him in their own way. He was the boss’s boyfriend, after all.

A few moments later, as promised, Mink returned, and Aoba started in surprise, because Mink’s lip was bleeding. 

“What happened?” Aoba exclaimed. Mink held up a brown paper bag and got back on the bike. 

“Gambler. He bet against one of the boys, but he won against that psycho from Bug Bomb two nights ago. Gave me a little trouble when I asked him to pay up,” Mink explained, holding his hand out over his shoulder. “Keys.”

“Right,” Aoba said, taking the keys out of his pocket and holding them above Mink’s palm. “But you’re alright?”

“Of course,” Mink snorted. “You can put a band-aid on it later if you want to. Come on.”

Aoba hesitated a moment before setting the keys down in Mink’s palm. Though he believed Mink when he said that he was fine, Aoba still wished he could check for himself. Surely the other guy was now unconscious or incapacitated, but anyone who landed a punch on Mink had to be either very dangerous or very stupid. 

And people who would bet on the outcome of a Rib match or a street fight were likely to be both. In addition to being his coworkers, the members of Mink’s gang were also a Ribsteez team named Scratch. Sometimes they would fight members of other teams not because of territory disputes or anything else relating to the game, but just to make a little money in bets. Aoba had met Mink for the first time at one of those fights. But that was back in Aoba’s Sly Blue days. Sly Blue, or rather, Aoba, had become fascinated with the terse, secretive man. It hadn’t taken long after that for Mink to get Aoba to stop acting like a juvenile delinquent and grow up, and the rest was history.

Mink put the bike into gear and they were off again. This drive was much shorter, taking all of ten minutes. Soon they had arrived at a combination bar/restaurant that Aoba had seen before from the outside but never been into, and Mink parked the bike, this time legally.

Inside the restaurant was dark and smoky, but with a lively atmosphere, especially around the bar. Mink lead Aoba over to a booth next to the bar, where they both sat down. Soon, a waiter came along to give them drinks, and Mink, who was evidently well-acquainted with this place, ordered for both of them. Aoba was relieved to see that Mink's lip wasn't bleeding any more. Thank goodness.

“How was your day?” Aoba said, fiddling with the place settings. 

“Fine,” Mink said. “So what’d your brother want?”

“Can we not talk about him?” Aoba said, frowning down at his fingers, and Mink shrugged. 

“Whatever.” Mink took a sip of the beer the waitress had just brought. “So tell me about something else, then.”

“Um…” Aoba said, still playing with his chopsticks, “A bunch of people called the store today. Oh, one of my friends called. He got the Heibon number from – uh, without telling me,” Aoba said, knowing it was a bad idea to tell Mink he had been hacked, even by a friend. Mink would want to fly out to Europe and beat up Noiz personally. Which was chivalrous, sure, but not worth the time or anger, given that Noiz wasn’t at all a threat.

Mink nodded, so Aoba continued. 

“He just wanted to say hi and see what I was doing. It was really embarrassing, though, because my boss came in while we were still talking, and I had to hang up on him,” Aoba said, grimacing as he remembered that awkward moment when the phone, dangling in the air, had loudly conveyed Noiz’s profanity to everyone around it. “My boss wasn’t mad at me, though. He just said to get back to work and to check the catalogue entries of the new deliveries.”

“You shouldn’t waste your time at work like that,” Mink said, frowning. “I hope you told him not to do that again.”

“Well yeah,” Aoba said, but just then the waitress arrived and put their food in front of them. Aoba picked up his chopsticks, as did Mink, and both of them started eating.

It was nice to eat food Aoba hadn’t cooked himself. This morning, as all mornings, he had made breakfast for both Mink and himself. Lunches, he either bought out when he was at work, or made for himself when he was at home. As for dinner, Aoba had to cook that every night whether he knew Mink would be there for sure or not. Some nights Mink came home early, and some nights he came home late. No matter what hour it was, if Aoba didn’t have anything prepared for him, Mink would not be pleased. Aoba forgetting to make something had resulted in a serious argument at least twice now. One of the things, Aoba reflected, that was difficult about living with someone you hadn’t grown up with was that their house rules were different than yours, and you just had to adapt. For living with Mink, this meant not just the cooking but many other things as well. 

For instance, Aoba liked walking around town with Ren when he was trying to get inspired, but Mink didn’t like it when he didn’t know where Aoba was. If Aoba wanted to leave the apartment when Mink was out, he had to call Mink and tell him that he was going out, as well as give him a specific destination. But usually Mink was in the middle of something important whenever Aoba caught him on the phone, and then Aoba never had a real destination in mind anyway. Aoba understood Mink’s slight possessiveness, because Mink had lost his family in a fire when he was a child, so naturally he worried about the safety of those who were close to him. But it was usually such a pain to hold those phone conversations with him that Aoba usually just stayed in. It had occurred to Aoba that this could be contributing somehow to his writer’s block, so he had taken to pacing around the apartment to get his blood flowing on occasion. 

“Oi,” Mink said, as Aoba shoved a gyouza into his mouth, “What’s wrong with you?”

It was a good thing that Aoba had just taken a big bite of something, because his initial reaction was to splutter out “What the fuck?” 

“What?” said Mink, as Aoba angrily and rapidly chewed. 

“Why did you ask me that?” Aoba said, swallowing so hard his eyes watered.

“You’re all quiet. Normally you won’t shut up. I didn’t bring you here just to watch you eat like a pig,” Mink said, gesturing at Aoba’s rice bowl, which was already half empty. “Talk to me.”

Had Aoba really been thinking and eating for that long? It didn’t feel like it, to him. Geez, take five minutes to think about communal living and get reprimanded by your boyfriend for being a bad date. And what was it with people and thinking that there was something wrong with Aoba today? Maybe it was an overreaction, but hearing Mink echo Noiz and Sei’s words put Aoba on edge a little. 

“I’m just tired from work, I guess,” Aoba said, wondering if he could feel the faint pressure of a headache coming on. 

Mink snorted. “Uh-huh, talking to your friend on the phone is such a hard job.” Lifting another mouthful of food, Mink rolled his eyes. Okay, so he had a point. Damnit, why did Noiz have to call? Now Mink probably thought Aoba was lazy on top of everything else. 

“I helped Haga-san organise an entire new shipment,” Aoba protested weakly, shoulders slumping. 

“Uh-huh, and then you had a social visit with your brother.”

Aoba’s fingers clenched around his chopsticks. Of course he couldn’t explain Sei’s visit to Mink, because Mink didn’t like to be reminded of how Aoba had fought with his family, and Aoba didn’t like talking about it either. Dejectedly, Aoba munched on a little bit more rice, the food he had already eaten lying cold and greasy in the pit of his stomach.

“Let’s not talk about that,” Aoba mumbled. “Why don’t you tell me what you did today?”

“Mm,” said Mink, taking a slice of pickled eggplant. “Had a couple of matches with Bug Bomb and Power Plant.” Those were the two of the three Rib teams whose territories bordered Scratch’s. Bug Bomb was on the inhabited side of the Old Resident district, while Power Plant was in the uninhabited area; Scratch controlled a little land on both sides of the fence. 

“You won, right?” Aoba said, and Mink nodded. It was rare for Scratch to actually lose a match, although they frequently got stalemated. 

“You want the details,” Mink said, in a tone of voice that suggested telling them would be a waste of time. 

“Yes,” Aoba said, knowing that Mink didn’t actually mind telling him about Scratch’s fights. Mink was proud of his team, after all. 

Heaving a pretend sigh of annoyance, Mink launched into a play-by-play of the day’s events as Aoba continued eating steadily. 

But even though the topic of the conversation had turned, Aoba still felt like a great weight was pressing down on his head and shoulders. The would-be headache was now hovering around his temples, and he felt, more than anything, that his earlier instinct to go home and just get takeout had been the right one. It wasn’t Mink’s fault – he couldn’t have known that Aoba’s conversation with Sei had been so deeply upsetting to him. But it did mean that now Aoba would have to make it through the rest of this date without letting on how bad he felt, because he didn’t want to ruin the experience for Mink, after all. 

“And that’s what happened. Satisfied?” Mink concluded a short time later. 

“Mm-hmm, thank you,” Aoba said, laying his chopsticks neatly across his plate. Both of them had finished eating, so Mink signalled the waitress to bring him the bill. 

“You’re gonna bankrupt me,” Mink said, and Aoba smiled sheepishly as Mink paid. 

Outside, the sky was already dark, and a few clouds were beginning to gather on the horizon, but the rain was still a long way off. It was refreshing to be in the open air instead of the loud, smoky restaurant, which Aoba now realised had been overwhelming his senses a little. The pressure of his headache was slightly relieved, but the best thing for it would be to go home and sleep. Aoba and Mink got on the bike again, Aoba wrapping his arms snugly around Mink, and they set off for home. 

Mink’s apartment was in the east, like Aoba’s own house, but much farther to the north. The dividing line between the inhabited and uninhabited parts of town were visible from the living room window, with the gargantuan white wall of Platinum Jail looming in the far distance beyond. As Mink and Aoba approached their apartment, foot traffic on the streets thinned out and a sense of calm fell over the neighbourhood. 

After parking Mink’s bike and chaining it in place to deter thieves, the two went upstairs to Mink’s apartment on the third floor. As soon as the door closed, Aoba heaved a sigh of relief and headed to the bedroom. Mink followed. Before Aoba could begin to take his hair down or undress himself, Mink grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him towards him. 

“What are you doing?” Aoba said confusedly. 

“Well this is a date, isn’t it? What do you think I’m doing?” Mink said, putting his hands on Aoba’s waist. 

Oh…

“Can we please not? Just this once? I don’t feel so good,” Aoba said, trying to squirm out of Mink’s grasp. 

“Nonsense. This will make you feel better anyway,” Mink said, smirking crudely. 

“Mink…” Aoba started, as Mink grabbed his ass with one hand and began stroking the inside of his hipbone with the other. Aoba’s head felt as if it were about to shatter.

“Come on, now. Don’t make this difficult,” Mink said, reaching Aoba’s belt buckle. Aoba swallowed dryly as Mink undid his belt and tossed it casually on the floor behind him. 

“Please be gentle then,” Aoba pleaded, and Mink shrugged. 

“Sure, whatever,” he said, and reached inside Aoba’s pants.

-

**REN**

Later that night, Aoba lay in bed beside Mink with his head feeling like it was about to split open, and failed to fall asleep. His body ached. Tossing and turning was doing him no good. In the darkness, Aoba could make out the faint outline of his own pants lying on the ground and sighed. 

With the thought to take some medicine, Aoba hauled himself out of bed. Grabbing his bag, which he had dropped by the entrance to the apartment when they came in, Aoba made his way into the kitchen. There, he took two pills and downed an entire glass of water. That made him feel a little better, but his entire body was crying out for rest. Still, something deterred him from returning to the bedroom. So Aoba left the kitchen, turned in to the living room, and lay down on the couch.

Through the window beside him, Aoba could see the wall of Platinum Jail, feet shrouded in darkness by the lightless windows of the deserted North Old Resident district. The jumbled silhouette of tall apartments and office buildings stood out starkly, like a black cardboard cut-out on a white-painted background. The longer Aoba looked at it, the more it appeared to be a void, a nothingness stretching out forever in front of him. With a shudder, Aoba turned away, drawing shut the curtain with one hand. 

His eyes fell on his bag, which he had transferred from the kitchen to the living room with him and left on the floor. Well, Mink was sleeping now, so there was no reason that he shouldn’t just…

Reaching into the bag, Aoba pulled out a familiar, soft bundle of blue fur. He pressed gently on Ren’s little head to activate him, then held him protectively to his chest. Ren opened his eyes and peered about the room, taking in the lateness of the hour and the fact that Aoba was on the couch in the living room instead of in bed with Mink.

“I detect the presence of Mink in the room next door,” Ren said quietly. “Should I return to sleep mode?”

“No,” Aoba said, burying his face in Ren’s fur. Normally Ren had to be in sleep mode with Mink was around, in case he accidentally got underfoot and Mink wasn’t paying attention. Ren also didn’t like to be awake when the two of them were having sex, which happened fairly frequently.

“What is troubling you, Aoba?” Ren said, and for the first time that day Aoba appreciated the question being asked. In a soft whisper, Aoba explained the day’s events to Ren, taking comfort in the familiar, solid weight of him in his arms, the softness of his fur, and his distinctive Ren-smell, which was two parts dog shampoo and one part metal. When Aoba was done, Ren gently licked his cheek, a comforting gesture that Ren didn’t give often. 

“If only Noiz hadn’t called and Sei hadn’t come,” Aoba said. “Then all of this would have turned out differently.”

Ren was quiet for a moment.

“Aoba… have you considered that perhaps some part of this anguish is due to Mink?” he said, not accusingly. Aoba pressed the heel of his hand to his own forehead, and in turn Ren gently pressed his nose into Aoba’s neck.

“Mink…” Aoba sighed. “Mink doesn’t relate to people very well. It’s not his fault. I should be able to handle myself by now, so maybe it’s on me.”

“As you say,” Ren said carefully. “But maybe, if Mink isn’t very good with people, and you can’t handle yourself well, the two of you are a functionally inefficient couple. Don’t you think it would be better to be with someone who can complement your weaknesses?”

“Date someone else?” Aoba said, shocked. “But where would I go? You know I can’t go home. I can’t leave Mink because I'll be homeless.”

“Aoba,” Ren started, but Aoba interrupted him.

“I just have to hope that Mink and I will grow into each other, okay? We can make this work.”

Ren nuzzled Aoba comfortingly again. “I have no doubt that you will be fine,” Ren said. “But perhaps you should consider that if this relationship is not best for you, you may have to find somebody else.”

“No,” said Aoba, shaking his head. “No, no. This is fine. You’re right, I’m going to be fine.”

“Of course you are,” Ren said, wagging his tail against Aoba’s arm with a soft little thump. “I foresee a 93.5% chance that you’ll be feeling completely fine tomorrow.”

Aoba smiled. 

“Thanks, Ren,” he said. Holding Ren in his arms and talking to him like this was making Aoba feel so much more relaxed. Plus, the medicine seemed to be kicking in, thank goodness. 

“I’m going to bed now,” Aoba said to Ren, who nodded. 

“Goodnight,” Ren said. Aoba pressed his forehead to Ren’s one last time, then shut him down, put him back in the bag, and returned to the bed he shared with Mink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HIKARI (light): Comes from the anime soundtrack. Please note that there is also a song on the soundtrack called Namida (tears).
> 
> "Cool Voices": Lol that song title hurt me to write. Why, Aoba. Anyway, this is from the game, meaning it's by Goatbed, and it's actually the song that the Alphas sing, I think. Track 17.
> 
> "Hustle": Track 2 from the game soundtrack by Goatbed.
> 
> Please take the idea of Aoba having written these with a grain of salt. I imagine that his version would be a lot rougher, a lot more demo-y. Hikari in its current state isn't all that depressing. Later he'll go through a period of song-editing. But as far as I know there aren't any demo tracks of any of these songs, so I can't link you to anything other than the finished product.
> 
> \--
> 
> Cubase is software used to write and produce electronic music via the computer. Please note that although I did a bunch of research for this fic, I am in no ways an expert on making music (except if you give me a piano) so if you think Aoba would likely use something else, please tell me!
> 
> I seriously considered naming another Rib team Cat Pillow and spent a good five minutes giggling about shitty Rib names. Others include Doll Breath (emo band?), Stiletto, Picture Frame, and Flooring. I settled on Power Plant because they're going to be in there for all of one line, so whatever.
> 
> FYI, in case anyone was wondering about Tori, he was in the seat of Mink's motorbike this whole time. Mink doesn't really care about him, as we've seen from canon, so he's not really going to make an appearance. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> \--
> 
> Questions and comments always welcome!!


	3. Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Aoba has sex twice in this chapter, and the first time it's dubcon.

A few days later, Aoba was dusting the living room when Mink burst open the front door and stormed inside with an imperious swirl to his coat. Looking up in alarm, Aoba barely had time to register the unusual grin on Mink’s face before Mink grabbed him by the waist, dipped him back, and kissed him full on the lips. A flash of fear shot through Aoba and he was rigid in Mink’s arms before he realised what was happening – Mink was happy. Mentally chiding himself for his instinctive anxious reaction, Aoba relaxed and returned Mink’s insistent kiss. 

Mink straightened up, still grinning, and grabbed Aoba by the wrist. “Oi, let’s go.”

Realising that he was still holding the dust-cloth, Aoba let it drop on the table, even as Mink watched impatiently. As cloth hit wood, Mink swept Aoba’s legs out from under him and carried him bodily over to the bedroom, which was just ten steps away. Instead of dumping Aoba unceremoniously on the bed, Mink took the time to set him down on his back before kicking off his boots, shrugging out of his coat, and advancing towards the bed. Aoba waited, a knot of nervous tension clenching in his stomach. Would Mink be gentle tonight, or rough in his exuberance? There was no alcohol on his breath, but Aoba knew Mink could be just as brusque under the influence as not. 

Mink crawled onto the bed, positioning himself above Aoba’s hips. It was rare for Mink to put his lips on Aoba, but he did it again, leaving big, open-mouthed kisses on Aoba’s neck and pulling down the collar of his shirt to gently bite the crux of his shoulder. Aoba couldn’t help but be turned on, biting back a little moan, though he made no attempt to put his hands on Mink like he would have in the beginning of their relationship. Instead, he lay somewhat stiffly as Mink ran his hands over Aoba’s chest and unzipped Aoba’s trousers. Mink’s motions were controlled and gentle as he pleasured Aoba, reacting to Aoba’s stifled gasps and the involuntary twitches of his hips. In short order Mink had brought Aoba to the edge, watching in amusement as Aoba’s hips jerked and he came all over his own stomach. 

“Turn over,” Mink said gruffly, but not harshly. Aoba did as he said, waiting for Mink to mount him and feeling surprised at the cold slick of lube he felt as Mink pressed in. Mink took his time with Aoba, rolling his hips slowly at first before beginning to move in earnest. There was no pain, only pleasure that had Aoba biting his own knuckles in an effort not to cry out. When they were finished, Mink let him rest awhile before taking him again, equally as slowly as the first time. Finally, when Aoba thought he could take it no more – which was usually around the time Mink started pressing him even harder – Mink let him collapse on the bed in a sweaty heap and went off to have a shower. 

Later, Aoba lay beside Mink in their shared bed, new sheets cold and a little musty from the back of the cupboard. Mink was breathing evenly, long hair spread out on his pillow in ropelike strands, while Aoba lay stretched out on his side and stared out into the darkness of the bedroom. In the night, the silvery glow from the surrounding buildings draped the floor and desk in pools of stagnant light. The room would not be truly dark until well into the wee hours of the morning. This was normally the time Aoba would take stock of any injuries he had sustained during sex, which could range from a fairly mild soreness to bleeding cuts from Mink’s spiked jewellery, or bruises on his waist, shoulders, or the insides of his thighs from the strength of Mink’s grip. 

But tonight, there was nothing. Why, Aoba wondered, was it so hard for his body to understand that nothing bad had happened, and that there was no need to be so anxious? Unconsciously, he brought his fingers to a healing bruise on his ribs, where Mink had hit him in anger last week when he had left the apartment to get more rice for dinner without telling Mink where he was going. What had happened tonight – perhaps Aoba would call it lovemaking. What other word could there be for sex without pain? Yes, that must be what it was. There must have been a time when such gentle and considerate treatment from Mink would have made him feel loved and fulfilled. So why was his ungrateful body reacting as if it was waiting for another punch to come? Mink wasn’t a bad person. It was stupid to lie here in the dark, feeling like… like something had been taken from him. Aoba squeezed his eyes shut and covered his face with his hands in shame. 

It was hard, but Aoba tried to force himself to calm down. As his breathing evened out, he shot a quick glance at the mountainous, shadowy figure beside him. Mink didn’t stir. With an irritated sigh, Aoba rolled further forward until he was lying on his stomach, one arm cradled under his pillow and the other wrapped around himself in a familiar gesture of comfort. He wished he could listen to his headphones, but Mink didn’t like electronics in bed. For some reason, that thought made Aoba’s mouth fill with the bitter taste of depression. The urge to cry returning suddenly in full force, Aoba made himself just close his eyes. 

There was nothing left for Aoba but sleep, but in his frustration he found it difficult to let himself drift away. Aoba sucked in deep lungfulls of air, trying to focus on his own breathing. Gradually, he started sinking into blackness.

From the depths of his mind, a vision arose. He imagined the feeling of hands upon him, gentle hands, tender hands, yet hands that were firm and strong, knuckles criss-crossed with scars. Fingers caressed Aoba’s chest and ribs, lingering on his collarbones and sliding down to the curve of his waist. It was a bittersweet imagining, suffused with honey-sweet air and warm golden light. None of the fear normally inherent in Mink’s touch was evoked by these worshipful hands. Aoba imagined a low, loving voice in his ear, murmuring sweet nothings just above his cheek, hot breath ghosting over his face. Now the voice’s owner was kissing him tenderly, lips rough but pliant, tasting of sweet tea. Aoba kissed tentatively back, crinkling his nose in surprise as a trail of kisses made its way down his sensitive neck. 

In his mind’s eye, Aoba caught a glimpse of glossy, dark blue hair as lips were pressed into his shoulder and collarbone. Aoba knew who it was who was touching him in his vision, and it was definitely not Mink. Perhaps he should have felt guilty, but Aoba longed to stay in this heated, glowing dream. So he allowed himself, just once, to think the forbidden name. 

Koujaku. 

Aoba shivered. His entire body felt alive, like electricity was thrumming along the lines of his pulse. The world shrank to the size of a bed, where Aoba was hyper-aware of the cotton sheets underneath him and of Koujaku’s persistent and steady mouth, wet on his skin. God, it felt good, so good, to be touched like this – like Aoba was something special, like he was something precious, like they had all the time in the world for Koujaku to make him feel good. Maybe it was a little sappy, and if it were real Aoba thought he would never let himself live this down, but for tonight – he could allow himself this. 

So Aoba let Koujaku slowly undress him, piece by piece. His hands lingered reverently at the hems and buttons of Aoba’s clothing before exposing the pale skin underneath. Reaching up, Aoba pulled the kimono over Koujaku’s shoulders, revelling in the smooth-tanned expanse of skin over firm muscles that was now within his reach. With his hands on Koujaku’s strong back, Aoba started rolling his hips in slow, lazy circles. Koujaku huffed out a little moan that went straight to Aoba’s dick, but his movements remained measured and calm. His hands continued caressing Aoba’s body, his lips finding their way back to Aoba’s mouth. They kissed and kissed, bodies rocking back and forth as Koujaku shed his own layers of clothing ‘till there was nothing but sweat-soaked skin between them and Aoba lay trembling in Koujaku’s arms. 

“Koujaku,” Aoba begged, “Please –”

“You’re ready?” Koujaku replied in a soft murmur. 

“Yes, just – ah!” Aoba gasped out, as Koujaku moved to kneel between his legs, hand lightly stroking his cock. Then Koujaku’s mouth was on him, hot and wet and cradling Aoba with both lips and tongue. Aoba’s hips jerked, but Koujaku gently held them down as he continued sucking Aoba off. Aoba was helpless in the grip of such lavish attention, back arching and fingers clutching at the sheets as his body cried out for release. He was practically sobbing Koujaku’s name as he finally came. 

Aoba’s eyes popped open as a hot stream of come coated his stomach for around the third time that night. Crap. For a moment he forgot where he was, eyes darting wildly around the dark and empty room as if there were a chance he might see the hem of a red kimono flickering out of sight. The thundering of his own heart filled his ears, driving out all other thought until he began to breathe normally again. When he was finally able to sit up, Aoba saw that thankfully, the tissues were on the nightstand on his side of the bed for once, so he wiped himself off and did his best to clean the sheets.

Aoba had come just from imagining being made love to by Koujaku. And yes, that had been making love. There was come on Aoba’s hands, so he must have been touching himself without realising it. But why? Aoba had never before this night thought of his childhood friend as anything other than a friend, but before Mink he hadn’t known that he could love another man at all. But why now? Aoba felt a surge of arousal as an image shot rapidly through his mind – the image of a half-naked Koujaku, dark hair spilling freely over his shoulders in a rippling wave, leaning over him in a yellow halo of light. 

Just then, Mink moved beside him, and Aoba’s stomach clenched. Had he cried out at the climax of his… vision? He didn’t know that either. Aoba had completely lost himself in the touch of another – and yet still… he couldn’t bring himself to feel that he had done something wrong. 

‘ _Maybe I love him_.’ 

Just as that thought crossed Aoba’s mind, Mink sat up. Instantly, Aoba’s body tensed. 

“What are you doing?” Mink said, deep voice gruff from sleep. His eyes fell on the soiled tissues that were still clutched in Aoba’s hands, and Aoba bowed his head in anticipation of what was to come. 

Mink’s booming laugh rang out, making Aoba flinch. 

“Can’t get enough of me, huh? Go back to sleep,” Mink said. “But first, clean that up.”

“Sorry,” Aoba said meekly. Mink pinched his ass as he stood up to throw out the tissues. After rinsing his hands in the bathroom sink, Aoba came back to bed, where Mink had already fallen asleep again. 

Though Aoba wouldn’t admit it to himself in the morning, the last thing he saw before he fell asleep was a glimpse of Koujaku’s golden smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions & comments always welcome!
> 
> Especially comments. Please comment.


	4. Prince Redbird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing bad happens in this chapter, lol.

The next morning, Aoba woke up with the urge to write some music. Normally he would sit at his computer and tinker with the midi keyboard until he had something resembling a melody, which he would most likely later scrap. But today, there was something tickling at the back of his mind – a beat, already formed. As the morning progressed and Aoba made Mink’s breakfast, showered, and then returned to the kitchen to eat, he began to hum that nagging little beat. 

Mink’s mood had become normal again, so he was quiet at the breakfast table. Aoba knew that because he didn’t have work today, he wouldn’t be excused until Mink had finished eating, so he sat quietly at his seat and tried not to draw attention to himself by fidgeting. When at last Mink left the apartment, Aoba left all the dishes in the sink and rushed straight into his workroom, ignoring Ren, who had woken up automatically when Mink left. 

Aoba’s workroom was supposed to be the apartment’s second bedroom, but since he and Mink shared a room, this one was just used for storage. Pretty much the whole room was full of junk. Some of it was Aoba’s, but he hadn’t been able to bring much with him when he left Granny’s house, so most of it was Mink’s. Aoba had never tried to look inside any of the cardboard boxes piled up against every wall, blocking even the window. There was only a little room in there, and in this small, snug space, Aoba had set up his desktop computer, which was rigged up with a fantastic sound card, a midi controller, and a full midi keyboard. There was a small external speaker, but Aoba preferred to use his headphones when working.

It was to the computer that Aoba precipitated himself now. He opened Cubase and instantly began setting down the music in his mind before he could forget it. When that was done, Aoba breathed a sigh of relief and played the clip back to himself, with no small satisfaction. It was upbeat, catchy even, something Aoba’s music rarely was these days – if it had ever been that good to begin with. Playing around with different instruments, Aoba managed to find the perfect sound for the main melody, and then turned his attention to the counter-melodies and sound effects. 

Aoba spent a good few hours adding in those counter-melodies and trying out different instruments, stopping only to grab a slice of toast at 2pm when Ren came to bother him and he realised how famished he was. Ren wisely stopped trying to interrupt Aoba after Aoba almost stood on him by accident, so by the end of the afternoon, Aoba had polished that insistent little tune into a quality demo track. 

Flushed with satisfaction at the completion of the song, plus a little light-headed from dehydration, Aoba dazedly wandered into the kitchen. There he drank a good half-litre of water, then finally started putting away the morning’s dishes, snacking as he went. Normally, Aoba wouldn’t upload a demo the day it was made, but his head was still buzzing with the sound of his own music. He was so distracted that he nearly dropped a plate on his own foot, but fortunately caught it before it could slip through his fingers. That sobered him up a little. A broken plate was the kind of thing that might make Mink angry, and wouldn’t that be a great way to ruin Aoba’s day. 

When Aoba finished cleaning up, he realised that he had just enough time to upload the song – if he wanted to – before he had to start dinner. He hesitated for a moment, then headed back to his workstation. It took only a few moments to upload the file to Bluejay’s account, but when it came time to fill out the title and description, Aoba paused. 

Where had this song come from? How could he tie it to his life with Mink, and so to the world of Cockatiel, Pip, and Bluebird? The more Aoba thought about it, the less like the other music on the account it seemed. Could it be that Aoba would just… not be able to upload this song? Aoba considered cancelling the upload, pouting a little.

This song reminded him of something, of someone. It evoked the feeling of a mischievous, confident, yet kind and protective smile. It was adventurous and fun, the opposite of the solid, earthy Cockatiel or the spunky but lonesome Bluejay. And Pip, much as Aoba loved Ren, was too often the butt of jokes to be given a song like this – although it would probably be pretty funny. For a moment, Aoba was irritated at his own avian avatar for being so dispirited and boring. It was all just part of the backstory, but suddenly Aoba couldn’t remember why it had seemed like such a good idea at the time to put Bluejay into an unbreakable cage. It wasn’t like Mink wouldn’t let – it wasn’t like Aoba couldn’t – it wasn’t like Aoba was stuck in this apartment for the rest of his life, after all. 

‘Well, obviously,’ Aoba thought to himself, more than a little discomfited, though he couldn’t say why. Maybe Aoba could just make a new character for this song, like a cool bird neighbour or something. But who to base it on?

Just at that moment, Ren wandered into the room. He sniffed the air with his little black nose, then looked up at Aoba with big, accusing eyes. Remembering how he had almost squashed his furry friend by accident earlier, Aoba guiltily picked Ren up and gave him a hug. 

“Hey, Ren. Sorry about earlier,” Aoba said quietly.

Instead of admonishing him straight away, Ren said, “It’s nice to see you writing a new song, Aoba. But don’t do that again. If I am in injured, I may become unable to help you around the house.”

“I know, I’m a terrible owner,” Aoba sighed, putting Ren down in his lap. “You’re okay, right?”

“All systems are functioning at fully optimised levels,” Ren assured him solemnly, and Aoba laughed. 

“You wanna help me name this song, buddy?” Aoba said, gesturing at the screen. “Need me to play it for you?”

“I heard it,” Ren said, a little sourly, which made Aoba smile again. 

“Yeah, then who does it remind you of?” Aoba said. Sitting up, Ren put his paws on Aoba’s desk and gazed at the screen. As Ren thought, Aoba gently stroked his back. 

“I don’t know if I am best suited to answer this question, but I would have to say Koujaku,” said Ren at last, and Aoba nearly fell off of his chair. 

“Koujaku?” he said in disbelief. “What? Why not… Sei, or – or Granny, or I don’t know. Not him!”

“This song reminds me of Koujaku’s Beni Shigure,” Ren said, looking around at Aoba and blinking his moist black eyes in confusion. “Is this a bad thing?”

Beni Shigure? Beni Shigure. Huh. Aoba’s sudden panic waned. He replayed the song as he considered what Ren had said. Now that he was listening to it again, this song did remind Aoba of the enthusiasm Koujaku sometimes displayed when talking about Ribsteez, and the atmosphere that Aoba had felt when watching Beni Shigure battle another team. Still, thinking of Koujaku sent a sickening flash of guilt through Aoba’s mind. Last night’s vision clamoured at the edges of his brain, but he did his best to shake it off. It was only natural that Aoba should write a song about an old friend of his, right? He could call it “Fighting!”, and then it would be an innocent tribute, nothing more. Maybe the timing was coincidental, but it was Ren who had suggested Koujaku’s name, not Aoba. Besides, Aoba rationalised to himself, he didn’t have to re-use the Koujaku character after this, right? 

Swallowing his unease, Aoba realised that the easiest stand-in for Koujaku in Bluejay’s world was Koujaku’s Allmate, Beni. To make him match the other birds in Aoba’s musical little universe, he could call him “Redbird”. It wasn’t an exciting name, but it seemed somehow to fit. And if he wasn’t going to re-use the character, then what did it matter? 

Hands hovering over the text box, Aoba typed the following: 

“Redbird is Bluejay’s best childhood friend, but they haven’t seen each other in a while. If Redbird is the same as Bluejay remembers, he loves traditional clothing and music, home-cooked food, and fighting to win the hearts of all the lady birds in the forest. This song is named after his chivalrous ways.”

“How’s that, Ren?” Aoba said.

“I do not detect any grammatical errors in this text,” Ren replied, nose twitching as his eyes rapidly scanned the screen. 

It was strange, but Aoba felt like he’d forgotten how funny and adorable Ren’s earnest replies could be. He still felt uneasy about posting this song and unleashing Redbird on the internet, but Ren seemed so calm and normal that Aoba felt a little silly about his fears. Finally satisfied, he hit “post”. 

But there was no time to admire his work. Aoba had taken so long creating Redbird that now, by necessity, dinner could only be leftovers. With a sigh, Aoba shut down his computer and took Ren to the kitchen to see what they could quickly heat up. 

[ ](https://youtu.be/OM3QeWrP5Uc)

The next morning, Aoba checked his account and found that “Fighting!” seemed to have garnered a fair amount of views. Clear had sent him a cute little sketch of Redbird, obviously modelled on a #372 red avian Allmate, the same model as Beni. Aoba told Clear to put some geta shoes and a little hat on, just because it was funny, and then headed over to work. That day he was only working for a couple of hours, so he stopped off at a takeout place after work for lunch and took the long route home. 

After yesterday’s intense musical session, Aoba decided to give himself the afternoon off. When he got home, he lounged around in the living room with Ren, watching a little TV and slowly eating the take-out straight from the plastic containers. 

At around 3 PM, Aoba got bored of daytime TV and decided to see if Noiz or Clear were online. He wandered into the workroom, fired up the computer, and messaged both of them. Clear wasn’t online, but he had left Aoba two messages, the first from that morning, and the second from about an hour ago:

 **Crystal_Jelly** : You requested that I draw a hat on Redbird, so I have put a crown on him. I thought it would suit him, and I hope that you approve as well.  
****Crystal_Jelly has attached a file****

Yes, Aoba supposed it was fairly cute. The second message read:

 **Crystal_Jelly** : SlyBlue-san, congratulations!!

Uh… Aoba had no idea what that was about. He turned his attention to the chat with Noiz, which had just sounded a little alert to let him know that Noiz was online.

 **SlyBlue** : Hey what’s up?  
**RuffRabbit** : you’re welcome

Noiz’s message was equally as mysterious as Clear’s. Aoba frowned.

 **SlyBlue** : For what?  
**RuffRabbit** : I had a friend of mine put your song on his blog. you’re famous now

Unable to tell if Noiz was joking, Aoba went to his Ensou account to assess the situation before he made himself look stupid in front of Noiz. But when the visitation stats for his page loaded, Aoba had to refresh the page twice to make sure that there wasn’t some mistake. 

That morning, 1000 people had listened to his song. Now, it was more like 5,000. The mailbox icon at the top of the page had passed the 99 message limit and was now displaying a little red “99+” icon. Still unable to comprehend, Aoba clicked on the mailbox and was inundated with a torrent of… praise?

“wow this is so good why didn’t i hear about you before”  
“holy shit, eargasm”  
“Aww, your little birds are so cute. Redbird has a little crown!”  
“~click this link to meet hot Russian single girls who are dying to meet you~”  
“please write more about prince redbird”  
“did this get beta’d? a couple of mistakes but overall very nice job”  
“this song is great. liked and followed.”  
“haha are you like a wizard in disguise or something”  
"please make more music soon. fighting!"

The comments… they just went on. There were about 200 of them in Aoba’s inbox in total. The first two comments were Noiz’s and Clear’s, of course. There were a couple of other recurring fans who had either liked or commented. But most of these people were totally unknown to Aoba. 

A warm feeling began to blossom in Aoba’s chest. These strangers all liked his song. Some of them had gone back to his older music and commented on it too. Someone had agreed with Noiz that Hikari was depressing (whoops), but there were so many positive, kind comments that Aoba started to feel like some kind of fraud. Aoba knew that his music wasn’t good enough to warrant all of this lavish praise. Heck, “Fighting!” wasn’t even beta’d or edited. Feeling a little overwhelmed, Aoba closed Ensou and went back to the chat with Noiz.

 **RuffRabbit** : hello, hello, earth to Bluejay  
**RuffRabbit** : what’s taking you so long  
**SlyBlue** : You said this was because you got someone to post my song on his blog?  
**RuffRabbit** : yeah, why  
**SlyBlue** : Why did you pick this one?  
**RuffRabbit** : it’s the best thing you ever wrote so I figured it was time. duh  
**SlyBlue** : You mean you were waiting for me to make a song you liked enough to spread around on the internet??  
**RuffRabbit** : pretty much

Aoba didn’t understand what was going on, but he felt like he should maybe be mad at Noiz. And being mad was an easier emotion than… whatever it was he was feeling when he looked at his Ensou page, which felt really good but also felt a little wrong, and a little bit like wanting to cry. No way was Aoba going to let himself cry over some comments on the internet. No freakin’ way.

Ren must have noticed that something was wrong, because now he trotted into the room and hopped up onto Aoba’s lap, giving comfort without needing to say anything. Absently, Aoba began to pet Ren’s head and ears. 

**SlyBlue** : You’re a weirdo you know that?  
**SlyBlue** : How am I supposed to keep making music this good? You’re gonna look really stupid if I make a bad song after this.  
**RuffRabbit** : yeah, you’ll probably do something like that  
**RuffRabbit** : don’t worry about it, dummy  
**RuffRabbit** : just keep writing about Redbird, he obviously matters a lot to you. is that your high school sweetheart or something  
**SlyBlue** : He is literally my childhood friend just like the description says. Dumbass.  
**SlyBlue** : I don’t know why but some people have been calling him Prince Redbird. Isn’t that weird?  
**RuffRabbit** : if you had read the comments you would know that it’s because of that little crown Clear drew on him  
**RuffRabbit** : they think it fits his personality, so now he’s a prince  
**RuffRabbit** : and I don’t care if he’s a literal dog dish, just keep writing about him if you want to make money

Koujaku… a prince. Aoba laughed aloud at that. He could almost see Koujaku walking around in a many-layered, courtly kimono, or the bright silk and ermine fur of a European prince. Admittedly, there was a certain nobility to Koujaku, at times… when he wasn’t flirting with someone or being insufferably sappy, that is. Maybe the women that Koujaku flirted with all thought of him as a prince already. Thinking about Koujaku’s many romantic conquests always turned Aoba’s stomach a little, so he turned his attention back to Redbird, the character, instead of Redbird, the Koujaku stand-in. 

And decided that permanently adopting the “Prince” nickname would be hilarious. But there was something else Noiz had said that was bothering him. 

**SlyBlue** : What are you talking about I don’t make any money doing this.  
**RuffRabbit** : yeah, well now you’re going to start  
**SlyBlue** : Oh shut up you can’t tell me what to do.  
**RuffRabbit** : okay fine  
**RuffRabbit** : you can keep living in squalor for the rest of your days. see if I care  
**SlyBlue** : Look how am I supposed to make money from being a musician on the internet? There are a million guys who do that.  
**RuffRabbit** : yeah, and there’s only one Bluejay and Prince Redbird.  
**SlyBlue** : Why does it matter to you if I make money or not?  
**RuffRabbit** : I see an opportunity, I take it. simple as that

The idea of making money from his music had never occurred to Aoba before. He composed because he wanted to and because he had to. On the one hand, making music was really fun. It was a good way to pass the time, and very satisfying when he managed to produce something worth listening to. But on the other hand, as with “Fighting!”, sometimes something inside of him just wouldn’t let him walk away from the keyboard. So the likelihood of Aoba continuing to compose was very high, which meant that maybe Noiz had a point. Aoba already had a job, of course. But if he made a little extra per month on his music, then maybe he could… go on a vacation. Visit Sei in secret. Take Mink away with him somewhere. Visit Koujaku, even. Aoba hoped that Koujaku and Mink would manage to get along.

Aoba shook his head at his own frivolous ideas, but the idea of going away somewhere seemed to stick in his mind. Even if Mink couldn't come with him. He’d have to argue with Mink about it, but maybe some distance would be good for their relationship overall.

“Aoba, are you alright?” Ren piped up from Aoba’s lap. 

“Yeah, I’m just wondering if I should say yes to Noiz or not,” Aoba said, scratching Ren behind the ears. “I thought maybe I could go on a vacation if I make some money on this Bluejay stuff.”

Ren wagged his tail. “I highly approve of that idea,” he said. “I believe you would greatly benefit from a vacation of some kind.”

The idea of taking a vacation, possibly without Mink, made Aoba feel a little nervous but excited at the same time. Of course, he didn’t have to use the money for that purpose, but… well, perhaps he was getting ahead of himself. There was no telling how much money he would actually be able to make from his music to begin with. Aoba turned his attention back to the chat, which had just pinged out a notification again. 

**RuffRabbit** : are you still there or what  
**SlyBlue** : Sorry I was talking to Ren.  
**RuffRabbit** : is that Cockatiel's real name  
**SlyBlue** : Haha no that's my Allmate.  
**SlyBlue** : He’s a blue Spitz, an old model.  
**RuffRabbit** : ok whatever  
**RuffRabbit** : he better have agreed with me  
**SlyBlue** : Yeah I thought about it with him. Tell me your plan.  
**RuffRabbit** : ok so you have options. you should probably start selling stuff with Bluejay and the other birds on it, like keychains and phone charms. don’t worry about how to make them, I’ll send you a website that will do it for you.  
**RuffRabbit** : oh but get permission from Clear to use his drawings. you might have to give him a cut but that’s not a big deal  
**RuffRabbit** : the other thing you can do from home is start posting only the demo versions of songs and making people pay to download the final version. that way everyone gets to hear your music, but you still make some money.  
**RuffRabbit** : you can also have a donation box on your page for people who like your stuff to just give you money if they want to. eventually, if you keep making good music, you can give concerts. not yet, though. right now you’re just a one-hit wonder  
**SlyBlue** : Okay I’ll think about this stuff but I don’t think anybody will want to just donate to me.  
**RuffRabbit** : if you write a sob story as your status or in your profile, they will  
**RuffRabbit** : feel like committing some fraud today  
**SlyBlue** : Stop making stupid suggestions.  
**SlyBlue** : I’ll put up the donation box and do the demo-version thing. If people like that maybe I’ll do some of the other stuff too.  
**RuffRabbit** : after you gain a few more followers, you could just ask them if they want merch  
**SlyBlue** : I only have about 3,000 followers right now and half of them are from this morning.  
**RuffRabbit** : good  
**RuffRabbit** : keep the music coming, and you’ll be rich for life, guaranteed

Aoba laughed at Noiz’s hyperbole. Meanwhile, he had opened Ensou back up in another window and was in the middle of adding the virtual donation box with PayPal. 

**RuffRabbit** : I’m gonna go now  
**RuffRabbit** : there’s a big Rhyme tournament this weekend, so I can’t babysit your account  
**RuffRabbit** : you’ll have to get Clear to help you if you have any problems. haha, good luck with that  
**SlyBlue** : Oh shut up I can figure this out on my own.  
**SlyBlue** : Bye Noiz!  
**RuffRabbit** : don’t use my name on the internet  
**RuffRabbit** : bye

The chime for the end of a chat sounded, and Aoba closed the window. In a few moments he had finished adding the donation box, and posted the announcement about the release of demos only from now on. Now that he understood Clear’s message, he figured he should probably reply to it, even though Clear still wasn’t online. Aoba sent a “thank you” to Clear and assured him that he liked Redbird’s – Prince Redbird’s – new design. After all that was done, Aoba opened Cubase and tinkered around with it a little, managing to produce a short little jingle he could work on more tomorrow. Finally, he shut the computer down and went to the living room to clean up the takeout boxes from earlier, Ren trotting along behind him.

“It’s nice to see you in such a good mood,” Ren commented as Aoba tossed a plastic dish into the garbage.

Aoba smiled a little shyly. “A lot of people saw my song, and most of them really liked it,” Aoba said. Truth be told, his head was still spinning. Suddenly, he was more popular than he had ever been before. And, now somehow he was going to make money from his work? That was the part that Aoba was less interested in thinking about. 

“It was a good song,” Ren said generously, given that Ren’s preferred genre of music didn’t really align with Aoba’s at all. 

“Thanks,” Aoba said, stuffing a leftover ball of rice into his mouth before throwing out the container that had housed it. “Do you really think all those people will keep listening to my music?”

“Some will, some won’t,” Ren said, cocking his head thoughtfully. “What matters is you keep making music. Even if some fans get bored and go away, you can always attract new ones.”

“Oh, you’re so smart,” Aoba laughed, scooping Ren up and twirling around the room. 

“Aoba!” Ren exclaimed in surprise. “This is undignified!”

“Fluffy puppy,” Aoba said, shoving his face into the soft fur of Ren’s stomach. Ren yelped. 

“Put me down at once!”

Laughing again, Aoba set Ren back down on the sofa while he went to put an unopened packet of chopsticks in the kitchen cupboard. As he came back into the living room, however, an uneasy thought crossed his mind. 

“Ren, do you think it’s really okay if I keep writing about Koujaku?” Aoba said, plopping down on the sofa beside Ren. Because Ren was pretending to sulk about being picked up, nuzzled, and called a “fluffy puppy”, he sniffed and turned away haughtily before replying.

“I don’t see why not,” said Ren. 

“Well…” Aoba sighed. “I don’t know.” He hadn’t actually told Ren about that weird dream he’d had with Koujaku in it, and didn’t really feel like explaining it either. “Shouldn’t most of my songs be about Mink? Cockatiel was invented before Prince Redbird, and all.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Ren said. “Do what you’ve always done, and write whatever you want.”

It felt to Aoba like he was letting himself take the easy way out by listening to Ren, but he couldn’t think of a good reason to disagree, either. Absently fingering one of the couch cushions, Aoba looked out the window, where the long shadow of Platinum Jail was already beginning to fall over the uninhabited north district. Yet there was still light there. Tiled rooftops and daubed concrete walls could be made out, vaguely, in the gloom beneath the wall. 

“Okay,” Aoba conceded, smoothing over the top of the couch cushion with one hand. “Ren?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think I’ll really make money from this?”

“Yes,” Ren said simply. “I take it your desire to go away is quite strong, is it not? Otherwise you would not ask.”

“Yes,” Aoba admitted. “Just for a little while.”

“It’s like I said before,” Ren said. “You’ll be fine, Aoba.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Fighting!" is from the anime OST, and was originally called Ribsteez. Obviously I couldn't keep the name, because birds can't play Ribsteez (or can they??). In Korea and Japan they say "Fighting!" to encourage someone. (In Japanese it sounds more like "Fighto!" but whatever.) I think this fits in really well with Koujaku because of the whole "Makeru na" ("Don't give up") thing.
> 
> Questions and comments always welcome!!!


	5. A Bitter Spice

Koujaku was at home, on his computer, listening to music on the internet. No, really, he was. He had an appointment later that evening, so it wasn’t as though he had enough time for one of his usual activities – visiting a lovely lady, getting in a few more hours of work, or hanging out with Beni Shigure. It didn’t matter if that wasn’t a fair justification, because Koujaku was too far gone in his music to give it one ounce of attention. All of this was Mizuki’s fault, anyway.

About a week ago, Koujaku had been in the vicinity of The Black Needle and decided to pop in and have a drink with him to wind the evening down. As it was near to closing time, there were few enough customers scattered around that Mizuki could catch a quick break to sit with Koujaku. They seated themselves at the end of the bar, beside a red radio playing some annoying electronic music. At first, Koujaku paid it no heed, but as he and Mizuki chatted about the day, the song switched to a soothing piano melody and caught Koujaku’s attention.

Seeing Koujaku glance over at the radio, Mizuki said, “Do you like it? This song’s called Hikari. The one up next is about Ribsteez. Isn’t that cool?”

“I never heard of anyone writing songs about Ribsteez before,” Koujaku said, curiosity piqued. “How did you find it?”

Motioning towards his Coil, Mizuki accidentally clinked it with the beer bottle in his hand and Koujaku winced as a few drops of beer fell onto the screen, but Mizuki didn’t seem to notice.

“I’ve been following this guy’s music on this website called Ensou,” Mizuki said. “The song description doesn’t actually say it’s about Ribsteez, but I asked him in the comments and he said yes. Here, I’ll just play it. You’ll see.”

Putting down his beer, Mizuki opened an app on his Coil and told it to skip forward a few times to the song he was talking about, and the radio beside Koujaku switched tracks. The new song started with an immediate beat drop, and to Koujaku’s untrained ears, sounded like it was bouncing with energy. After a moment of listening, Koujaku thought he could hear how this could be the soundtrack for a Rib match. Mizuki was bobbing his head along to the music, apparently enraptured by it. To Koujaku, it was fairly pleasant, but it wasn’t really his genre of music.

“What do you think?” said Mizuki, and Koujaku quickly faked a grin.

“It’s, uh, it’s very good,” he said, as the song changed to a less upbeat track, a little sweeter and a little more mild.

“You like it?” Mizuki said enthusiastically, and Koujaku sighed internally. When Mizuki was enthusiastic about something, everybody around him had to know everything about it. Which maybe worked well for recruiting Rib members, but not so much for everything else. Like that one time Mizuki had tried to convince him to move from the bar part to the tattoo part of the Black Needle and get a tattoo. No thanks.

“There’s another interesting thing about this music,” Mizuki said. “The guy who makes it – his name is Sly Blue – he writes these stories about all of his songs. The Ribsteez one is about a princely red bird who fights to defend women and likes traditional stuff. Sounds like you, hey?”

“I’m not a bird,” Koujaku said, raising his one visible eyebrow. For some reason, the name “Sly Blue” sounded familiar, but maybe he had met another Rib player who called themselves that.

Mizuki laughed. “Okay, maybe like Beni,” he said. “But hey, I’ll send you a link to this song online. It’s called Fighting!.” Koujaku watched in dismay as right then and there, Mizuki tapped out a message to Koujaku on his Coil. Now he would have to listen to this Clever Blue guy all over again.

“Done!” Mizuki announced, and Koujaku heard his own Coil give a little beep.

“Thanks,” Koujaku said, as Mizuki picked his beer up from the bar and knocked back a healthy gulp. Koujaku did the same.

“Listen,” Mizuki said, pointing at Koujaku with the hand that was still holding the beer bottle, as the song on the radio changed again, “I have to clean up that broken coffee pot in the back that I told you about earlier. You should really listen to that song, though. Oh, and your drink’s on me.”

Before Koujaku could say “sorry about that”, “I will”, or “no, stop, you paid for the last two drinks I had here,” Mizuki had hopped off the stool and was making his way towards the storage room beside the bar.

“Good night!” Koujaku called after Mizuki, who waved at him once before disappearing.

And that was how Koujaku was introduced to Sly Blue’s music, but it certainly didn’t make much of an impression.

Until about four hours later, when Koujaku had a nightmare he couldn’t remember and woke up shaking in the dark.

To the right, Beni was charging on the floor, his head tucked under his wing. Beside the bed lay Koujaku’s sheathed sword, resting on a red throw rug. To the left, a large expanse of empty futon, the cream-coloured sheets all thrown about, and the gaping black void of a doorway beyond. For a long moment, Koujaku lay still as the fear washing through him began to ebb like the tide. When he was no longer paralysed, he sat up, drew his knees to his body and bowed his head.

Midorijima. His apartment. His room. His bed. His body, naked, yet still he could feel the tattoos crawling on him. Just a dream, maybe a real one. Koujaku heaved out a sigh.

The odds of falling back asleep right away were not good, not after that. Koujaku considered waking up Beni for some company, or just going out and walking around by himself until he became exhausted and his feet carried him home. Something was nagging at the edge of his consciousness, and in his sleep-addled state it took him a moment to realise that there was a song stuck in his head. Not important. What to do? Staying in was easier than getting dressed to go out. Was this that stupid song Mizuki had shown him earlier? Koujaku’s hand hovered over Beni’s head for a moment. Shamefully, he didn’t want Beni to know that he had had another nightmare. Even though Beni never gave him a hard time about it, Koujaku felt bad about waking him.

There was that melody again. Music could be a distraction. Why not? Sitting up a little more, Koujaku felt around behind himself on the windowsill until he found his Coil. When he turned it on, the brightness of the screen blinded him momentarily. After a few moments of memory-based button pressing, Koujaku found the message Mizuki had sent him.

The link loaded to a website coloured like a pale noon sky, with some green tree tops arrayed across the bottom. The author’s avatar was a blue bird in a silver cage, but that was just in the sidebar. The centre of the page contained the map of a soundwave, with a title and image above it, and several comment stacks below. None of this meant anything to Koujaku, who was mostly interested in the sound of the song itself. It took him a moment to find the “play” button at the beginning of the soundwave.

The lingering remnants of unrestful sleep had been laying heavily across Koujaku's back like a shroud, but as soon as the music started playing he sat bolt upright, feeling wide awake. Good grief, was this the song that had been running through his mind? It was so… perky. Completely the wrong kind of tune for the middle of the night. Koujaku remembered that there had been another song after this one, one that was nicer, and interrupted Fighting! to click on the link for the song that came after it.

This one was called “Redbird’s Vision” and the image was of a red sparrow with a crown who otherwise looked an awful lot like Beni. Come to think of it, this red bird had been on the page before, too. If Beni had been awake, Koujaku would have pointed and said, “Look, Beni, it’s you,” but that would have to wait until morning now.

The artist’s name was still nagging a bit at Koujaku’s memory. Sly Blue? Shy Blue? Sky Blue? Was this supposed to mean something to him? Koujaku pressed play on the song and, just out of curiosity and because there was nothing better to do, read the description.

[ ](https://youtu.be/viY06JAOA1g)

“ _One night, Prince Redbird was asleep in his nest when he had a dream about his childhood friend, Bluejay. Prince Redbird realised that he was in love with Bluejay and that he wanted to be with him. But Bluejay is still living in a cage, and defended by Cockatiel, his mate. All Redbird can do is continue to dream_.”

The song was gentle, with sighing violins and a soft but at times urgent melody. It swept Koujaku up and carried him away like a warm ocean wave. And as it ended, abruptly, it left a void as silence echoed around the dark, still room. Somehow transfixed, like the shadows were holding their breath. When the song ended, Koujaku was left alone in the quiet darkness. The shadows on the walls didn't seem so unreasonably black and deep anymore. Koujaku lay back down, pressing play to make the same song start up again. Time passed slowly, and Koujaku felt a strange sense of familiarity come over him. There was blue before his eyes. As the song looped itself the feeling began to build. This music... it was like... like someone he knew.

It was like Aoba.  
This music reminded him of Aoba. Aoba’s name – blue. The electronic genre – Aoba’s favourite. This Redbird was clearly Beni – or himself, if Mizuki was to be believed. And the meaning of the song – well, Koujaku loved Aoba.

It wasn’t a secret.

Not one that Koujaku kept from himself, anyway. If Redbird was Koujaku, and Bluejay was Aoba… this song was about them. Koujaku couldn’t help feeling a little bit stupid as he imagined it, yet the idea was compelling somehow. Perhaps it was even the song itself, which seemed to suck him in and carry him along, like the artist was pulling him into Redbird’s dream. Two sentiments warred inside of him – contempt for his pathetic desperation to be closer to Aoba in any tiny, stupid, unrelated way, and the desire to indulge in the fantasy for just a moment longer. Koujaku looped Redbird's Vision until finally he fell asleep.

In the morning, Koujaku woke up, glanced at his Coil, remembered last night’s events and thought, This is stupid. But he played back the song Redbird’s Vision, and found that although it didn’t move him to any strong feelings in the calm light of day, it was still comforting and warm. He would have to be stupid to deny that this Sly Blue seemed to have a lot in common with Aoba, so it must have been a case of false familiarity. Throughout the day, Koujaku found himself thinking about that song. Eventually, Koujaku gave up and listened to more of Sly Blue’s discography that night before bed. Although Beni thought that Prince Redbird looked nothing like him, Koujaku knew he was just being contrary.

And that brings us back to Koujaku listening to one of Bluejay’s older songs, Mob Of Crows, while getting ready to go to dinner with the Seragaki family.

[ ](https://youtu.be/ZzNYnjfDHUo)

The Seragakis were like Koujaku’s second and only surviving family, unless he was counting Beni Shigure. The Seragaki twins, Aoba and Sei, were like Koujaku’s brothers, or had been until Koujaku realised he was in love with Aoba. So now they were more like his brother (Sei) and his brother-zoned best friend (Aoba). When Aoba had still been living there, Koujaku was over at his house like clockwork every single week. Now, it was harder to go when the absence of Aoba made itself so keenly felt at every moment. It had been long enough that nobody made stupid mistakes like setting an extra place for him or cooking too many portions of rice. But Sei had been depressed ever since he left, and saying Aoba’s name in front of Tae-san was completely forbidden unless you wanted to get yelled at. Because of all this, Koujaku hadn’t been there in about a month. Pretending that Aoba wasn’t really gone was more painful that admitting it.

Still, Koujaku missed Tae-san and Sei-chan, and was worried about them, besides. Tae-san was tough, but Sei doted on his brother, who in turn had doted on him, up until now. Sei had been a sickly child and a slightly less sickly teen, and during that period in his life, Aoba had spent the majority of his free time taking care of Sei. Now, Sei was well enough to work at some gothic clothing store in the south of town, although his full-time occupation was writing and drawing a webcomic. At some point, Koujaku had known the name, but as it wasn’t especially to his taste he had forgotten it already. Squirrel, or something. With those two things, Sei kept himself relatively busy.

The only close friend Sei seemed to have now was his Allmate, Cerise, a sleek black rat with lacy white and red markings. The Seragaki household had never had an Allmate until Aoba adopted Ren, and Sei had fallen in love with the little dog almost right away. Seeing this, Aoba had bought a defective rat Allmate at a bargain price, then scrounged the Heibon junk shop for parts to fix it up, just like he had done with Ren. When all the repairs and upgrades had been made, Aoba gave the Allmate to Sei, who named her Cerise. Now she was his constant companion, as Ren was Aoba’s.

Koujaku didn’t think it was healthy to have only a mechanical rat as your only friend. It was times like these that he became irritable at Aoba for leaving. Not angry – never angry. If there was anyone to blame, it was probably Mink.

But enough of that. The song ended, and Koujaku stood.

-

Koujaku raised one fist and knocked politely on the door of the Seragaki residence. In a few moments, the door opened and Tae-san appeared behind it. 

“Tadaima,” Koujaku said. 

“Okaeri,” Tae-san said sarcastically, since Koujaku didn’t actually live there. Entering the house, Koujaku left his shoes in the entryway, and followed Tae-san into the kitchen. Sei was setting the table, and it appeared that Tae-san had been in the middle of putting the finishing touches on three plates’ worth of curry rice. Giving a friendly nod of greeting to Sei, Koujaku started helping him lay out chopsticks, napkins, cups, and plates. Sei accepted his help with a shy smile and a quiet “konbanwa.” The room was redolent with spices, and warm from the heat of the stove. Koujaku could see the rice steaming gently in the pot sitting on the countertop. 

One of the things that made a home-cooked meal taste so good, for Koujaku, was the atmosphere. Here in this peaceful kitchen, where he and the Seragakis moved around each other like clockwork with the ease of long familiarity, Koujaku could hardly believe he was allowed to exist in and partake of a space like this. As he and Sei finished setting the table, Sei struck up a little small talk in his soft yet eager voice, while Tae-san looked on benevolently. It seemed, for once, like everything was perfect.

“Sit down,” Tae-san scolded, pushing Koujaku and Sei towards the table. “This kitchen is far too crowded. Sit down, I say.”

Sei laughed, and Koujaku inclined his head politely before taking a seat. Tae-san set the last bowl of rice in front of Koujaku and then took her place at the head of the table. 

“Itadakimasu,” Koujaku and Sei said in unison. Koujaku took a moment to inhale the spicy, luxuriant aroma of curry before picking up his chopsticks and starting to eat. 

“Koujaku-san, how is Beni?” Sei said. Tae-san had a no-hats-at-the-dinner-table policy, and Sei’s waist-length black hair was pulled back from his face so it wouldn’t fall into the curry, so Koujaku could easily read the genuine interest in his expression. Of course, Koujaku knew Sei well enough by now to have expected it. 

“Beni is doing fine. He’s right here,” Koujaku said, patting the front of his kimono, where Beni was safely tucked and sleeping.

“No Allmates at the dinner table,” Tae-san interrupted, and Koujaku frowned in confusion. 

“It’s a new rule,” Sei said, looking slightly embarrassed. “Last week Cerise almost fell into the soup and short-circuited.”

“That sounds a lot like her,” Koujaku said, as Sei passed the nato to Tae-san. 

“Yesterday she asked me why I have bones on the outside of my body,” Sei said with fond amusement, patting the back of his right-hand glove. 

“I told her Sei needs extra bones because he doesn’t drink enough milk,” Tae-san said, and Koujaku laughed. 

“I’m perfectly healthy,” Sei objected, downing half of his glass of water as if to prove it. 

“You should eat more vegetables,” Tae-san said, at the same time as Koujaku said, “You look very healthy, Sei-chan.” 

Tae-san glared at Koujaku, who shoved a potato in his mouth, nodded his head in silent apology, and tried to not look too much like a target. Koujaku and Sei exchanged side-eye glances as Sei made a big show of eating something off the communal vegetable plate. 

“How’s the webcomic going?” Koujaku said, in case Tae-san was thinking about continuing the vegetable lecture. 

Sei looked down shyly. “My website gets 100 visitors a day.”

“That’s great,” Koujaku said, assuming that 100 visitors counted as a lot on the internet.

“I know,” Sei said, fairly glowing with pride. “I’m working on a little animation for it. I think a lot of people will like it if I can get good music for it. I was hoping to get a song from Aob – um, from someone else, but that fell through.” Sei hastily corrected himself, but the damage was done. Tae-san’s lips were pressed together in a thin line, her frown like a thundercloud. 

“I, um, sorry,” Sei apologised, to no one in particular. 

“Did you know,” Tae-san started abruptly, turning to Koujaku, “That Sei actually spoke with his no-good wastrel of a brother two weeks ago?”

Koujaku didn’t know what to do other than answer Tae-san politely. Although he really wanted to hear news of Aoba, more than anything else, he really, really didn’t want to do it like this – with Tae-san scowling at him over her bowl of curry, and Sei looking like he wanted to curl up and sink into the floor.

“No I did not,” Koujaku said, glancing at Sei in what he hoped was a commiserating way, but Sei didn’t see him because he was staring so fixedly down at his plate.

“Well go on,” Tae-san snapped, gesturing at Sei with her chopsticks. “You tell him.”

Taking a deep breath, Sei said, “I went to Heibon.” 

Koujaku started in surprise. They all knew that Aoba still worked at the junk shop, but it was something of a forbidden territory, just as going into his room or mentioning him in front of Tae-san was. 

“And?” Koujaku said. 

“And Aoba said he was fine,” Tae-san interjected, causing Sei to flinch.

“Um, yes,” Sei said, and Koujaku noticed that his hands were clenched very tightly around his chopsticks. “Th-then I asked if he was going to come back, and he said no, and then Mink came so I left…”

“I can’t believe he couldn’t even spare his own brother more than five minutes,” Tae-san said viciously, shaking her head. Koujaku burned with the need to defend Aoba as much as he could, but if he prolonged this conversation Sei might just burst into tears.

“Yes, it was rude of him,” Koujaku said as neutrally as possible. “But perhaps we should speak of something else.”

“Pah!” Tae-san spat. “That I should see the day one of my own children acts in such a selfish way. Fine, have it your way. You tell us about something, Koujaku.”

It was clearly a challenge, but Koujaku was more than happy to immediately launch into a complicated story about Kou and Hagima’s terrible landlord. Though Koujaku pretended to be absorbed in the telling of the tale, he glanced sideways at Sei every few moments just to see how he was doing. As the story went on, Sei began to relax and start eating again, although with far less gusto. He picked fitfully at his rice, not looking anywhere but his plate or Koujaku occasionally. 

Internally, Koujaku sighed as his raised hackles went down. This was exactly what he had been afraid of, why he had been putting off visiting the Seragaki house for so long. Though he understood Tae-san's anger, it took all of his self-control not to fly into a rage whenever she started to talk like that. Thankfully, by the end of his story, Sei was looking up a little bit more, and the grim set of Tae-san’s mouth had also relaxed a little. The conversation returned to normal, and the two Seragakis and Koujaku bantered a little bit more about their Allmates, Sei’s health, Beni Shigure, Koujaku’s job, and the leak in the sink of the upstairs bathroom, which was giving Tae-san a headache. 

Finally, the meal was over. Koujaku thanked Tae-san for the meal and was shooed out of the kitchen along with Sei so she could clean up in peace. Sei and Koujaku retreated upstairs to Sei’s room to talk some more. Sei had perked up considerably, and Koujaku was loathe to upset him again, but he really, really wanted to know the full story of what had happened with Aoba.

“It’s dark in here,” Koujaku commented, as he entered Sei’s room. 

“Oh, sorry,” Sei said sheepishly, going to his desk and flipping the switch beside it. Sei had had Aoba install some complicated lighting system in his room for the aesthetics, so Koujaku was careful to never touch any of the lights in there himself. 

“Also, sorry it’s messy,” Sei said, flipping the lights through a rainbow cycle until the normal yellow ceiling light was on. There was still a warm red light on in the corner, but it was barely visible. Koujaku suspected that sometimes Sei forgot how to work all the lights himself. He was also unsure why Sei was apologising, since his room was always a mass of colourful pillows and stuffed animals, his desk cluttered with paper, pens, and a Cintiq drawing tablet. 

“It’s fine,” Koujaku said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “No need to apologise. It’s your own room.” 

Sei rewarded Koujaku with a fleeting but genuine smile, and sat down in the chair at his desk.

“I guess you want to know more about what happened with Aoba,” Sei said abruptly, fiddling with one of the pieces of paper sitting on the desk in front of him. 

“Oh –” said Koujaku, who hadn’t expected Sei to be quite so direct about it. 

“It’s okay,” Sei said gently, though he was still crinkling the piece of paper in a rather anxious sort of way. “I know how much you care about him. I’d want to know, too.”

Did Sei know…?

Well, never mind about that now. Koujaku cleared his throat awkwardly and said, “Thank you, Sei-chan.”

“Mm-hmm,” said Sei. “I went to see Aoba because something is really wrong with him.”

Koujaku’s stomach clenched in anger. _Aoba, what has that disgusting bastard Mink done to you?_

“Go on,” Koujaku said, managing to keep his voice steady.

“I was having these dreams about him,” Sei continued. “Not good ones. So then I went to Heibon and I asked if everything was okay, and Aoba said that it was, but I think he was lying. Something’s wrong with him and Mink, and something’s wrong with his music. Aoba thinks he can’t come home! I know Granny is angry, but can’t he see that she’ll get over it? I wish I could talk to him like before, just once. But every time I try, somehow Mink is there!” Sei said, his gentle face twisted with hatred. “I tried, I really did. I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

Koujaku found himself clenching his fists just as tightly as Sei was, and wished he could feel the comforting weight of the hilt of his sword in his palms. “Don’t blame yourself, Sei-chan,” he said, although his heart ached with Sei’s pain as well as his own. Abruptly, Koujaku stood up and came to stand at Sei’s side. “You’re the last person who should blame himself for this situation.”

Sei sighed, looking more tired than reassured. “Thanks, Koujaku.”

“Mmm,” said Koujaku, patting Sei gingerly on the shoulder. 

“You know, there is some good news,” Sei said, turning around to face Koujaku a little better, as Koujaku retreated to a safer distance and leaned against the wall. “A few days after that, our dreams started getting better. Mine and Aoba’s, I mean.”

“You had the same dream as Aoba?” Koujaku said, a little confused. Normally the Seragaki twins had similar dreams, dreams with the same emotion, or otherwise symbolic dreams, but having the same dream was a little unusual.

“Um, yes,” Sei said, and Koujaku had no idea why Sei was blushing slightly and not making eye contact. “Koujaku, listen. I think you could be right about Aoba leaving soon. He’s happier now, so I thought at first that he wasn’t going anywhere, but the dreams make me think he’s happier because he, uh, is having less to do with Mink. It’s hard to say. I just wish I knew what he was really thinking.”

“Hey, hey,” Koujaku said quickly, because Sei seemed like he was about to get upset again. Before Koujaku could think up some other suitably comforting thing to say, Sei smiled, his eyes crinkling up into happy little crescents. 

“Thank you, Koujaku-kun,” he said. “I know you’re looking out for me.”

Koujaku felt that he was undeserving of such praise, but he smiled awkwardly back anyway. 

“I guess we just have to wait and hope, huh?” Sei said. Koujaku went to fold his arms and almost knocked over a standing pink floor lamp. 

“I –” Koujaku started, then stopped himself. He wished he could be as optimistic as Sei was. Having already been given so many precious moments with Aoba, it was hard to believe that he could ever be granted more time with him. He had no claim on Aoba at all. Sei definitely deserved to have Aoba come home, though, so for his sake, Koujaku tried to believe.

“I suppose we do,” he said finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Redbird's Vision: Track 24 from the game OST.  
> Mob of Crows: Track 10 from the game OST. I didn't put Sly Blue's description of it, but it's supposed to be about Scratch. Aoba doesn't feel very comfortable around them, haha.
> 
> In case you don't know, Aoba's name means "blue leaf" or "blue leaves". [[x](http://voxiferous.tumblr.com/post/150289407827/my-intrusive-thoughts-during-fall)]  
> As for the whole Sly Blue/Shy Blue thing... [[x](http://voxiferous.tumblr.com/post/117090092155/ourlordandseivior-dies-first)]
> 
> Sorry about all the exposition in the middle of the chapter. I tried threading it into the actual scene and that just completely didn’t work. Unfortunately, Sei's introduction wasn't really the right time for all of that, so I figured it was just better to get it over with now than have it cluttering up stuff later. I'm not completely happy with this chapter, but it's better than all of my drafts. I think the bit in the middle of the night with Koujaku finding Aoba's music again and this time liking it because it reminds him of Aoba reads with a little too much melodrama. I decided on this because it's similar to the way I fell in love with Nightwish, but eh. Don't worry, the next chapter will be better, I promise!
> 
> I may or may not have taken some liberties with Mizuki’s character. I find him difficult to write because my memories of him in the game are very fuzzy. As for the whole The Black Needle is a bar AND a tattoo parlour thing, I think the most logical way to make that work (it totally wouldn't work lol) is for the tattoo parlour to keep shorter hours than the bar. So Koujaku is at the bar after the tattoo part of the business has been closed for the night.
> 
> Just to clarify, with "Redbird's Vision", Aoba projected his own dream onto Koujaku because he didn’t want to admit that Bluejay/he himself might love another. When listening to Redbird’s Vision, I advise you to concentrate on the violins. They're really very nice.
> 
> The name of Sei’s webcomic is Usui, named after the titular character. Koujaku confused the name with the Japanese word for squirrel, Risu.
> 
> I'm going to be very busy this week, so I won't be able to update until next week at the earliest. I have the whole outline written already, though, so don't worry about that. If anyone is reading this, lol.
> 
> Questions and comments always welcome!


	6. Get Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains domestic violence.

After Fighting!, Aoba wrote several more songs, each somehow related to Koujaku. Aoba told himself the writing was coming so easy because he had found a new source of inspiration in Prince Redbird, but the reality was that he continued to have dreams about Koujaku on a regular basis, though none as intense or as sexual as the first one. Soon after Fighting!, Aoba released a couple of short drabbles with throw-away names, plus a few decent demos and then Redbird’s Vision. Each song attracted more listeners to his account, so that by the end of the month he had about 5,000 followers, with 1,000 of them from Redbird’s Vision alone. 

As for the donation box, it netted Aoba about 10,000 yen, which wasn’t much, but certainly more than he had been expecting. As suggested by Noiz, he had asked people to vote on the idea of merch, and there seemed to be a fairly positive response. Of course, he would have to get Clear’s permission to use his drawings, but Aoba didn’t mind giving him a cut, since he fully deserved it. Clear drew those pictures out of the goodness of his heart, like he did everything. 

The pattern of Aoba’s days changed again. Whereas before he would play around listlessly with the midi controller and keyboard and not generate anything for weeks, now new melodies sprang to his fingertips with alarming frequency – alarming because Aoba was always afraid of losing track of time while composing, or of having a really great idea when Mink was in the house and of not being able to write it down in time. Fortunately, none of that happened. His ideas folder was overflowing. 

One afternoon after work, Aoba decided to twiddle around with the koto and various traditional flutes to see if he could cobble together a Redbird song that Koujaku would actually like if he ever happened to hear it. Koujaku wasn’t really an electronic music sort of person, so it was a fun challenge for Aoba. Meanwhile, Ren was pottering about the apartment, occasionally coming to listen to Aoba or to sit on his lap, occasionally looking out the window or napping on the sofa. On one of Ren’s visits, Aoba had the whimsical idea of putting a cool-sounding electric guitar as the main melody for the song for Koujaku, and laughed himself silly while Ren gave him a disapproving look. 

And so the hours passed away and the shadow of Platinum Jail grew long and fell over the apartment, Aoba was lost in his music. The electric guitar stayed (oh well) but the koto did too, while the flute melody grew ever more complex. 

Five o'clock, six o'clock, and Aoba didn’t move from his seat.

All of a sudden, a thunderous crash rocked the room, rattling through Aoba’s eardrums and instantly snapping him to attention. Aoba swivelled around in shock, only to find his movement arrested partway by a hand on the back of his chair. Then he was spun forcefully towards the entryway by that same hand, and then Mink was there. Mink, who wasn’t supposed to be home – unless it was already seven o’clock. One glance at the computer confirmed it. A swell of gut-writhing fear began to rise, but Aoba couldn’t think, could only look up to Mink’s dark and angry face and – 

Oh, god. Aoba’s heart suddenly froze.

There was a scrap of dark fur dangling from Mink’s hand.

And then Aoba was on his feet, though he wasn’t aware of having moved at all. All of his focus was on Ren’s body in Mink’s arms.

“What have you done?” Aoba cried, and Mink sneered. 

“Your precious toy is fine,” Mink said, pushing Aoba back so that his legs hit the chair and he was forced to sit down again. 

“Give him to me right now!” Aoba said furiously. He tried to rise again, but Mink was still holding him down with one hand. 

Mink snorted disdainfully, his eyes cold. “Sit down.”

“Stop -!” Aoba said, reaching up to Ren. Before he could do anything, Mink shoved him hard in the chest, and the back of the chair hit the computer table, rattling Aoba all over again. Ren was unceremoniously dumped into Aoba’s lap with a nauseating metallic click.

 _Ren_. As Aoba lifted his hand to check on Ren’s vitals and see if he was breathing, he saw Mink scowling at him and froze, his stomach churning in acid. 

“How can it possibly be that every night when I come home, you’re stuffed in this tiny room, playing with this computer?” Mink said, seemingly emotionless. The naturally deep register of his voice took on a sinister quality, cold and profound like the bottom of the ocean. “I thought you agreed to be a productive member of this household. Is that not so?”

“N-no – I –” Aoba stuttered, half paralyzed with both rage and fear for Ren. “I wasn’t in here yesterday night, or the night before. How can you say that? This is my first mistake.”

He knew it was a weak defence, although he could hardly say against what. Mink wouldn’t break Ren over Aoba being here at the wrong time, would he? How could he? What was this really about?

Ren twitched in Aoba’s lap and Aoba’s heart gave a great, nauseating bound. Aoba clutched at Ren’s tiny blue body, unable to look away from Mink but determined to protect Ren as best he could, though he had already failed, oh god…

Mink’s lip curled as he spoke. “Your first mistake. Right. Which is why I’ve been eating leftovers for the past four days. Because you can’t be damned to get off your lazy ass and do your job, because you like this computer here better than you like me. Don’t think that I don’t know it. You can’t wait until I leave in the morning and the door was practically swinging shut behind you when I got home last night. And now I catch you in here when you’re supposed to be in the kitchen, and you think I’m stupid enough to think this is a “mistake”? You must think I’m some kind of idiot.”

“No, of course I don’t think that!” Aoba said frantically, and Mink slammed his hand down on Aoba’s desk, knocking the keyboard and the midi controller aside. As plastic hit the floor Aoba flinched and Mink practically roared. 

“Don’t lie to me! You’re sitting there crying over me twisting the tail on your stupid robot dog, and you think I’m going to believe you’re not in here licking its balls every day when I’m not around? Why else would you care about the damn thing so much? It's not even a real animal.”

“Ren is important to me!” Aoba said, his vision blurred with tears now. How could Mink say these things? Aoba would never – Aoba had never – “Even if you don’t understand why, can’t you at least respect it? But h – he doesn’t matter more to me than y – you.” The words were so bitter in Aoba’s mouth that he felt like he was choking. 

“I don’t respect people who waste my time,” Mink said coldly. To his eternal shame, Aoba let out an instinctive whimper as Mink raised his arm. 

“No more Allmates and computers when you should be working. No more of this music crap. If you can't remember to pay attention to me once in a while, you can find another fool be your boyfriend.” With that, Mink grabbed hold of Aoba’s midi keyboard. There was a horrible cracking of plastic, a grinding noise, and Mink was throwing two fat handfuls of keys to the ground, leaving an ugly, shattered wound in the middle of the keyboard. Aoba flinched as if it were his own arm being broken. But he would not let go of Ren. 

“Get up,” Mink ordered. Unable to speak, Aoba shook his head. A weight was pressing heavily on his temples, a dark urge swelling within him.

“Get up,” Mink said evenly, "or you’ll be wiping that dog of yours off the floor in less than one minute.”

Aoba gasped for breath, then bit back his rising bile with a nearly feral snarl. But something was coming, and he knew what it was – Scrap. This was a situation that practically demanded him to use it, but Aoba knew if he did, Mink’s retribution would be worse by a thousandfold. But at the same time, he could not abandon Ren. It was so hard to think, and he didn’t know what to do. His chest and his head both felt like they were going to split open. 

“I can’t leave Ren,” Aoba managed to spit out, his entire body rigid. 

Before he could react, Mink swooped down, grabbed Ren, and held him up to Aoba’s face. Aoba was holding Ren so tightly that his arms were nearly wrenched out of his sockets, and he didn’t let go even as Ren’s blue nose was nearly shoved into his eye. 

Ren’s eyes were open and alert. He was alive. 

“Aoba,” said Ren in a tiny voice, and then Mink had ripped him away and dumped him on top of the broken keyboard. 

“I’ll say it one more time,” Mink said, voice so even Aoba could just feel him about to snap. “Get up.”

“Yes,” Aoba said, nodding a little too frantically. His head, oh god, his head. It still felt like it was about to split open. But Ren was alive, so Aoba tried to stand as Mink commanded. Aoba’s legs were shaking so badly that he had to grip the computer desk for support. 

“Pathetic,” Mink said, and slapped Aoba hard across the face. 

As Aoba lay dazed in a heap on the floor along with the midi keys he heard Mink say, “I’m going to get takeout.”

And then he was gone, his pounding feet drowned out by the rushing of blood in Aoba’s ears. 

For a few moments, Aoba lay still, completely unable to think or to move. As if from a long way off, he heard a small thud, then another metallic click. Then a small, wet nose was pushing at his forehead, a little pink tongue washing at his cheeks.

“Ren,” Aoba said, voice raw and broken. The urge to use Scrap was still there, were the headache and the nausea, though the near-tears had stopped. Slowly, Aoba pulled himself upright and pressed his face into his hands, not noticing the blood that dripped from his nose. One cheek was stinging and would surely show a bruise later, but that meant nothing. Aoba knew that Mink would be back in less than half an hour, which meant he had thirty minutes at most to fix up Ren. But it was so hard to think. Aoba let out a little whine of distress, and Ren pushed at his hip anxiously and tried to crawl onto his lap, once again making that metallic clicking sound. 

“Aoba,” Ren said anxiously. Reaching down, Aoba grabbed Ren and scooped him into his lap, then rested his back against the wall and tried to just think. If only his head didn’t hurt so much. He took a deep breath. There was only one thing to do.

“Calm down,” Aoba commanded, his voice ringing out rich and clear even in the tiny, box-filled room. There, that was Scrap taken care of, and Aoba’s headache, and the command had helped still his own pounding heart. Aoba found that he had enough courage to open his eyes and to look down at Ren. 

Who was visually unbroken, except for his tail, which was dragging on the ground behind him like a feather on the end of a string. But all four legs were attached, and his head, and there were no holes or wires visible, thank goodness.

“Ren,” Aoba said, “Does anything hurt?”

“No,” Ren said, and the warm hand of grateful relief seized Aoba’s heart. “I have run diagnostics on myself, and I am still functioning at fairly optimum levels. I believe that Mink displaced my tail from its socket, nothing more. He surprised me at the door and I tried to delay him from entering into your room. I am sorry for alarming you, but I decided to play dead after he broke my tail, which is why I did not move after being put in your lap. It seemed like the wisest course of action at the time.”

“That’s fine,” Aoba said, petting Ren's head as comfort to both of them. “I’ll fix your tail, Ren, just hold still, please, okay?” A few drops of blood from Aoba's nose fell onto his sleeve, bringing it to his attention. It didn't matter. Ren would have come first no matter what.

“Understood,” Ren said simply. As Aoba picked Ren up and examined the tail joint, Ren held perfectly still. Aoba could feel how the ball-bearing at the base of Ren’s tail had been popped right out of the socket, but fortunately it seemed nothing else was broken, not even the synthetic skin and fur that covered all of Ren’s body. What was it Mink had said? That he had twisted Ren’s tail? Well, of course he wouldn't lie about it. Mink never lied. 

With a furious grunt, Aoba popped Ren’s tail right back into its socket. As soon as it was reconnected, it started to tentatively wag. Aoba gave a little wan smile. 

“All better?” he said. 

“Yes, thank you,” said Ren, as Aoba put him back down in his lap again. “And what about you?”

Aoba sighed. “I feel… nothing, I guess,” he said. Ren didn’t reply for a moment, and Aoba let his head list to the side, utterly exhausted. He could see the broken keys lying scattered on the floor, as well as the fallen midi controller and computer keyboard. His stomach felt raw and empty, like all the contents had been scraped out with a spoon, yet he still felt a little sick. With one hand, he absently stemmed the trickle of blood still coming from his nose, then wiped it away. 

This was the third time this had happened with Mink. The first time was over the exact same thing, Aoba making music when he should have been working or cooking, while the second was because Mink thought Aoba was being too flirty with other men in the street – although Aoba had never had eyes for another man before he met Mink. Mink’s rule was that if they were going to be together, they should share equal parts of the work and have eyes for no one else, which sounded good in theory. But Mink didn’t consider Ren to be a person, yet at the same time saw him as some kind of threat to Aoba’s undivided attention. Not only that, but how was it equal for Aoba to do all of the cooking? So maybe Mink’s job was full-time and Aoba’s wasn’t. But Aoba still paid part of the rent. It might have been easier for Aoba to get another job if Mink would only let him out of the house to look for one without getting disproportionally upset over potentially losing him whenever Aoba went somewhere new. If both of them were working full-time, they could get take-out every night and nobody would have to be angry.

And Aoba knew, Aoba _knew_ that Mink had his reasons, and that Mink was just damaged and needed Aoba’s help. Mink would never be better unless Aoba was the best boyfriend he could be. But Aoba was just so, so tired. And everything about this was wrong. The more he thought about it, the more obvious it was. Aoba did care about Mink, he unquestionably did, in spite of what Mink might think, but how could he help him if Mink only ever saw what he wanted to see? First, there was Koujaku. Aoba had been dreaming about him for about a month now, and Mink hadn't noticed a thing, not even when Aoba and Mink had sex. Maybe that was on Aoba, but why was it happening in the first place? On top of that, Ren was Aoba’s friend, and Aoba couldn’t see him as anything less. Yet Mink thought it was okay to hurt him? Maybe Aoba had deserved to be slapped, but Ren was just a bystander. Remembering his dread and panic from just minutes ago, and imagining what could happen to Ren in the future, Aoba felt a new emotion rise to fill his hollowed out chest and grip him in its jaws.

Anger.

“We’re leaving,” Aoba announced. 

“What?” said Ren, his confusion comical. 

“Yep,” Aoba said, picking Ren up and standing. “I’m going to put you into sleep mode because Mink will be coming home soon. I can’t use the computer tonight, but tomorrow we’re going to find a way out of here. I know I can’t go home to Granny, but maybe one of my friends will help me. Is that okay with you?”

“Wh- of course,” Ren spluttered, shaking his head as if to clear out his ears. “Aoba, are you sure? I thought you loved Mink.”

A momentary doubt flickered across Aoba’s mind, but he immediately shook it off. “Yeah, but it doesn’t mean I have to live with him. I’m not going to sit around and watch you get turned into spare parts. We're leaving."

“Aoba –” Ren started. “I – well – thank you,” he said finally, sounding genuinely moved. Aoba shook his head in amusement, then kissed Ren on the top of the head. 

“Go to sleep,” he said, and Ren obediently closed his eyes. Setting Ren down on the computer chair, Aoba left the computer room, firmly closing the door behind him. 

Just in time, it would seem, because Mink came home not five minutes later to find Aoba apparently passed out in bed. Mink shook him roughly “awake”, gave him a take-out container, made Aoba give him a blow-job, and then let him go back to sleep again. Silently seething, Aoba closed his eyes but couldn’t find sleep. His mouth tasted like salt. Mink slept peacefully, but Aoba lay awake in the dark for a long time, waiting for the day to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you love how variable the chapter lengths are? So far the range is ~2,500 - ~8,000.
> 
> BTW, 10,000 JPY is about 100$, give or take. 
> 
> From a characterisation point of view, this chapter was hard to write. I think in reality Mink would have used more physical violence, but since I've never been in a fistfight before I don't feel particularly qualified to write about it. 
> 
> Did you think I forgot about Scrap? With Sei having prophetic dreams and all? Of course not. I don't really know how it will play out in future chapters, haha. Gonna bring it up again, though.
> 
> Aww, yiss. We hit 20,000 words.
> 
> P.S. Please comment ;w;


	7. Good End

The next morning, Aoba went through the motions of normal life with the effortless grace of someone who had practiced them a thousand times. Get up, get dressed. Go to the kitchen, start preparing breakfast while Mink had a shower. By the time Mink was done, so was the food. Sit, eat breakfast with Mink, make small talk or keep to himself, it made no difference. When breakfast was over, start putting things into the sink, like he was actually going to wash the dishes. 

The moment the lock on the front door clicked shut, Aoba dropped everything and went straight to the computer. He had work in an hour, but he wasn’t willing to waste the time until then with meaningless chores, not when his heart was still burning like a long-life candle. Ignoring the mangled midi beside him and the one on the floor, too, Aoba picked up the computer keyboard and put it back on the desk, then went straight to the chat client on the desktop. Skipping every nicety of greeting, he sent Noiz a message.

 **SlyBlue:** Hey Noiz I need your help.  
**RuffRabbit:** I told you never to use my name on the internet, so it better be important  
**SlyBlue:** I need to move out of my apartment and I don’t have anywhere to go. Do you have any ideas?  
**RuffRabbit:** well fuck me for not living in Japan, but somehow I just can’t think of anything  
**RuffRabbit:** why don’t you ask one of your real friends to do it

Aoba knew that Noiz was just kidding about the “real friends” thing. Undeterred, he typed out another reply. Aoba was going to see this through, and if Noiz didn’t want to help him, he’d just find someone else. 

**SlyBlue:** You don’t understand I’m living with Cockatiel.  
**RuffRabbit:** I thought he was made up  
**RuffRabbit:** let me guess, the cage thing wasn’t a metaphor  
**SlyBlue:** It’s a metaphor don’t worry. The thing is yesterday we got into a fight and he hurt Pip, so I want to leave now.  
**RuffRabbit:** you’ve been living with an overcontrolling boyfriend ? and a small child/baby ? this whole time and only now do you mention it ?  
**SlyBlue:** No Pip is my Allmate.  
**RuffRabbit:** um  
**SlyBlue:** He’s important though.  
**RuffRabbit:** ok whatever. tell me the rest of the situation  
**SlyBlue:** I only work a part-time job so I can’t afford a lot of housing. But I wasn’t really asking about that. The important thing is I don’t know how to get all of my stuff out of here without him noticing. Also he broke my keyboard I mean the midi so now I only have the little controller. So I can’t make money from my music until I get it fixed.  
**RuffRabbit:** ok  
**RuffRabbit:** I’ll help you, but tell me something  
**RuffRabbit:** where are your family and friends, and why aren’t they doing anything

Aoba thought of Granny and momentarily faltered. If only he hadn’t screwed up and made her so angry with him, then he could just go home and forget about all of this. But that option had been out of the question since the day he set foot in Mink’s apartment. Not only that, Mink knew where Aoba’s house was, and Aoba didn’t want Mink to come bothering his family again. No, better to go somewhere else. 

And as for Koujaku… Aoba swallowed. Koujaku was… Koujaku was out of the question. He was Aoba’s best friend after Ren, and Aoba was loathe to disturb his seemingly pleasant life. There was no way Koujaku could bring a girlfriend over to his apartment if Aoba was lying about cluttering up the place. The idea of being a burden to him – of forcing him to see the pathetic thing Aoba had become – made Aoba’s throat tighten in shame. There was no way he could go to Koujaku either. 

Then, of course, there were Aoba’s other good friends, like Mizuki, Kou and Hagima, and a few others. Aoba supposed he could ask them for help, but not until he got up the courage to do it first. 

So why had he asked Noiz? Maybe because Noiz had always given him sound advice in the past. Maybe it was because he had already expressed concern over Aoba’s situation that day at Heibon, without even realising it. Maybe Aoba barely even knew himself. 

**SlyBlue:** I haven’t talked to them since I moved in with Cockatiel. I can contact them again but I don’t know if they will reply.  
**RuffRabbit:** ok  
**RuffRabbit:** I need to know where you live  
**SlyBlue:** I live on Midorijima.

Aoba sent Noiz his address, somewhat surprised that Noiz hadn’t taken the opportunity to make a derisive comment about Aoba’s lack of friends. Silently, Aoba thanked Noiz and hoped that with his help, all of this would somehow end well. As in, with Aoba leaving without Mink noticing something was up. 

**RuffRabbit:** I think we should make a group chat with Crystal_Jelly and mizu-hi

mizu-hi was the name of a frequent, long-time commenter on Aoba’s songs, who Aoba always replied to but had never actually had a conversation with. Aoba supposed that Noiz wanted more people to be involved because this was a complex problem, but the choice of mizu-hi specifically was mystifying, as Aoba had spoken with several other fans just as much if not more.

 **SlyBlue:** Why mizu-hi I’ve never talked to him?  
**RuffRabbit:** he lives on Midorijima too. dumbass has it right on his profile page. I’ve chatted with him a couple of times, seems harmless  
**SlyBlue:** Okay that makes sense.

Although it also increased the chances that mizu-hi was someone Aoba knew, and that might be awkward. 

**RuffRabbit:** yes it does  
****Crystal_Jelly and mizu-hi have been invited to the conversation****  
**Crystal_Jelly:** Hello, RuffRabbit-san! Hello, SlyBlue-san! Hello, mizu-hi-san! It is very nice to meet you.  
**SlyBlue:** Hi Clear.  
**mizu-hi:** omg ur sly blue  
**RuffRabbit:** yes he is, duly noted  
**RuffRabbit:** glad we got that out of our system. now listen up you two  
**RuffRabbit:** Sly needs to get out of the north-east of the Old Resident District of the island of Midorijima and live somewhere that’s cheap or free. right now his only options are live with Cockatiel, who is a real guy and also an asshole, or live in a cardboard box, and that’s just no good. we need ideas, people  
**RuffRabbit:** oh yes, and all of this is a secret, including from Cockatiel. go spreading it around, and I’ll post your address on 4chan and let you suffer

Both Crystal_Jelly and mizu-hi started writing at the same time. Aoba watched the three little “so-and-so is typing” dots load over and over again, strangely calm now.

 **mizu-hi:** hey i live in the south  
**mizu-hi:** umm i can look around n see if theres a room for rent or sthg  
**mizu-hi:** midorijima isnt the cheapest place maybe u should go to the mainland

For some reason, Aoba had the uneasy feeling that his fear had come true – that he was talking to someone he knew in real life, specifically, Mizuki. Did Mizuki like electronic music? Aoba wouldn’t have guessed it. He seriously hoped that mizu-hi was not actually Mizuki, but given the name and the typing style, which was just like Mizuki’s texts, he wasn’t particularly optimistic.

 **Crystal_Jelly:** If it pleases you, SlyBlue-san, I live on the mainland around 100km from the Midorijima ferry terminal. I also have a big, empty house, which is very lonely for me most of the time. Would you like to come stay with me?

Um, what.

 **SlyBlue:** That’s very kind of you Clear but I don’t know if I can impose on you like that.  
**RuffRabbit:** beggars can’t be choosers, Sly  
**SlyBlue:** I can’t travel 100 km on my own without a car idiot.  
**Crystal_Jelly:** If I rented a trailer, I could attach it to my motorcycle and drive you to my house. Would that be convenient?  
**mizu-hi:** i can help u too  
**mizu-hi:** u need storage u need a place to crash for a few nights u use my place k

Aoba could not understand how Clear and mizu-hi (Mizuki) were so willing to just give up their living spaces so that Aoba could plant himself there for who knew how long. This was all just too much. Aoba wanted to get away from Mink, not inconvenience all his friends and cause a great hassle. If someone could help him move out, that would be one thing. But living in someone else’s house? If there was one thing that living with Mink had taught him, it was that every member of the household had to contribute equally. How could Aoba live with himself, knowing he was eating someone else’s food and contributing nothing?

 **RuffRabbit:** so what’s Cockatiel’s schedule like  
**SlyBlue:** Listen I really can’t let you take me on as a burden to yourself. I won’t let you do that. It would be nice if someone could help me move but that’s all I need really.  
**RuffRabbit:** ok everybody hold the phone for a second

A new chat window popped up on Aoba’s screen.

 **RuffRabbit:** ok listen to me because I’m only going to say this once  
**RuffRabbit:** you’re in a bad place right now and you need to get out before someone gets hurt. that someone could be you, it could be someone you love, hell, it could even be Cockatiel. the whole ‘I don’t want to be a burden’ crap isn’t going to stop that from happening.  
**RuffRabbit:** I used to be just like you. I lived in darkness and filth for years because I didn’t know there was anything else, and because I didn’t know how to reach out for help. but people want to help you without you even having to ask. you have a golden opportunity to fix your life, and you need to take it. if you’re so worried about being a burden, ask Clear what you can do to help when you’re living with him, and then do it. that’s what will make things right, not you getting a modesty complex and trying to erase yourself to avoid causing other people problems.  
**RuffRabbit:** do you understand

For some reason Aoba didn't understand, Noiz's words almost made him want to cry. Although Aoba tried to find some way to argue with him, there really was none. His first point – well, Aoba was leaving so Ren wouldn’t get hurt. There was nothing to argue with there. As for the second – it just made sense. It still felt wrong to leech off of Clear, but maybe there was something Aoba could give back, too. At the very least, he could always do the cooking.

And Aoba had been wrong about yet another thing – Noiz wasn’t just a good friend, he was an incredible friend. When all of this was over – when Aoba had his keyboard repaired and was living somewhere better – he would write a song for Noiz, and it would definitely be a good one. 

So Aoba replied simply, “Yes.” Noiz said, “good”, and then both of them returned to the group chat, where Clear and mizu-hi (Mizuki) had both left a couple of messages.

 **mizu-hi:** who wouldnt want to live w their fav celeb just saying  
**mizu-hi:** sadly i live over a tattoo parlour so idk if u would like it v much

Okay, definitely Mizuki.

 **Crystal_Jelly:** I would be honoured to have SlyBlue-san staying in my home. I would consider myself incredibly lucky were he to choose to do so.  
**RuffRabbit:** he’s chosen to do so, so let’s get back to the schedule  
**SlyBlue:** Cockatiel goes to work at around 8:00 every morning. I don’t think there’s a guard posted on the apartment because I’ve snuck out a couple of times without him noticing. The entrance code for the building is 4539 and I live on the third floor.  
**mizu-hi:** no guard? what is this guy some kind of yakuza  
**SlyBlue:** No a Rib player.  
**mizu-hi:** lol what  
**RuffRabbit:** I don’t know what that is, so let’s just forget about it  
**RuffRabbit:** ok here’s my plan  
**RuffRabbit:** Clear leaves for Midorijima ASAP, tonight is best. stays at mizu-hi’s place overnight. next morning gets to Sly at around 8:30 to account for any delays with Cockatiel. immediately start loading trailer and leave in less than an hour if possible. be on the 9:30 ferry. can you all do this  
**mizu-hi:** tonights fine if u come to the bar first bc i have work until midnight  
**Crystal_Jelly:** I will have to see if I can rent the motorcycle trailer this morning. How big would it have to be to fit all of SlyBlue-san’s things?  
**SlyBlue:** Well the biggest problem is my computer setup which is fragile. But I don’t have much stuff apart from that.  
**RuffRabbit:** a big one with good suspension. got it  
**Crystal_Jelly:** I will do my best to find a big trailer for SlyBlue-san. I will put a blanket in it so that we can wrap the computer up. Where is mizu-hi-san’s bar?  
**mizu-hi:** names mizuki n the bars in the south

It was amusing to Aoba how readily Mizuki admitted his name and location to three guys he didn't really know, but Mizuki was not only an earnest, kind-hearted person, but a good judge of character too. Remembering Mizkuki's good qualities made Aoba feel a little sad, and it bothered him that he was talking to Mizuki without him knowing who he was. If only he could just tell Mizuki, but he didn’t want any word of this getting back to Granny or Mink. 

Mizuki posted the address of the Black Needle into the group chat, along with a description of the surrounding environs. Aoba wondered how many new tattoo designs were on the wall of the bar, and if there were any new cocktails on the menu, but didn't dare to ask.

 **Crystal_Jelly:** Thank you. Now I will definitely be able to find this bar. I will see you tonight, Mizuki-san.  
**mizu-hi:** yea u can park ur moto in the lot at the back n leave it there w no worries  
**RuffRabbit:** anyone got any other dumb questions or what  
**SlyBlue:** How will I recognise you Clear?  
**Crystal_Jelly:** I have white hair, which I’m told is an uncommon trait for someone as young as I am. I will be wearing a white coat as well. Is this a satisfactory description?  
**SlyBlue:** Yeah that’s good thanks.  
**Crystal_Jelly:** I will see you tomorrow morning, SlyBlue-san!

Aoba glanced at the clock, and realised that he was already late to work. Hopefully this wouldn’t get back to Mink. 

**SlyBlue:** I’m sorry but I have to go to work now. Thank you all for your help and I’ll see you tomorrow Clear.

All three members of the group chat said goodbye to Aoba, who shut down the computer, threw all his stuff into a bag, and went straight to work without brushing his hair or showering. Haga-san didn’t berate him for being late, possibly because Aoba had a definite bruise on one of his cheeks and his hair was even wilder than usual. No matter his outward appearance, Aoba felt just fine. His focus was clear and absolute: make it through the day. At the same time, a million different thoughts were bouncing around his skull, but he found himself able to turn over each one in turn with no more emotion than if he were contemplating the contents of a spoilt refrigerator.

Aoba had never been to the mainland before. Well, now he was going, and he was damn well going to like it. No one had said that Aoba should talk to Mink before he left, and Aoba was glad of that, because there was no way in hell it was going to happen. Would it be okay to pack the computer in one blanket or should he use his jacket too? No, the motorcycle and the ferry would be cold, so he would need it. It had better be easy to get an Akai keyboard repaired on the mainland, or he was going to pitch a fit. Clear seemed like the kind of person who wouldn’t mind dogs, so probably he and Ren would get along, and if they didn’t, that was just too bad for Clear. Would it be better to wake Ren up tomorrow morning to tell him what was going on, or would it be better to just wait until they were at Clear’s house? Maybe Ren could help him pack. Oh, he had to remember to take his toothbrush out of the bathroom, as well as his shoes out of the entryway and his lamp from the living room. Well, screw the lamp. Was there anything of Aoba’s in the kitchen? Come to think of it, did he need to go shopping before dinner tonight? Wasn’t there only one egg left? Hah, Mink could subsist on take-out for the rest of his life, for all Aoba cared. Was it possible that Mizuki had figured out that Aoba was Sly Blue, or was Aoba less recognisable online than Mizuki?

Probably. 

Aoba’s thoughts continued in this vein all afternoon, distracting him so much that he missed two calls from potential customers and had to listen to one calm and one angry voicemail. (Fuck that guy.) Noticing this, Haga-san gave Aoba a concerned look and sent him to work in the back for the rest of the day. (Would Haga-san tell Granny that Aoba wasn’t coming to work anymore? Aoba would have to call Sei to make sure he didn’t worry.) After about six hours of work he probably didn’t deserve pay for, Aoba found his feet carrying him the well-worn path home. On the way, he stopped to get a few more eggs. 

Back inside the apartment, Aoba’s anger-guided laser focus of the morning returned. First, dinner. Fine; dinner would be made, and it would be damn good too, not that that mattered. Still time left until Mink was due home? Good. Aoba went into the computer room, picked the midi controller off the ground, and started preparing all the electronics to be packed the next day. Mink wouldn’t notice because he never went in there unless Aoba was in there and needed to be yelled at. When the front door opened at last, Aoba was in the living room with a dust cloth for show, making sure none of his possessions were scattered about. 

They played the old song and dance out at dinner again, Aoba chatting pleasantly while mentally fuming, and Mink being as unresponsive as usual. The words “fuck you” ran through Aoba’s mind like a record on repeat. Second only to that was “get out, get out, get out.”

That night Aoba again couldn’t sleep. All those questions from earlier bounced around his brain, and now they were harder to control. What was the best way to put all the stuff in the trailer? Would it even be big enough? What was Clear like in person? Would his house be okay? A knot of fear crept into Aoba’s belly, but it was too late to do anything about it now. Aoba wished that he could wake Ren and just hold him, but that was impossible. This thought transmuted Aoba’s fear into almost a kind of pain. For a moment, he lay with his face pressed into the pillow and felt like he was drowning. It was Mink who had done this to him, Mink who had brought him this low, and Aoba wouldn’t stand for it anymore -!

And just like that, the anger returned. And so it went for the rest of the night. 

By morning, the dominant emotion in Aoba’s mind was fear. The bruise on his face had changed from bright red to blue-ish purple, and was still very tender to the touch. It matched the dark bag under his other eye, brought on by lack of sleep two nights in a row. Over breakfast Mink scathingly remarked that Aoba smelled like wet dog, but Aoba just bit the bitterness down, knowing he wouldn’t likely have a chance to shower this morning either. A few more times he had to stop himself from blurting out something stupid, especially when Mink asked why he was so jumpy and he had to lie and say he saw a mosquito. God, Aoba only wished that was the only thing wrong.

As with yesterday, the second Mink left, Aoba went straight to the bedroom and took Ren out of his bag. Holding his best friend in his hands, looking down at his peaceful face, all of Aoba’s strength momentarily deserted him. 

_My god, I’m leaving Midorijima,_ Aoba thought, staring at his hands. For a moment, all Aoba could do was close his eyes and just breathe.

There was no doubt in Aoba’s mind that this was the right decision. But that didn’t stop it from being terrifying. 

“Ren,” Aoba said weakly, but Ren didn’t wake up. Of course. Mustering his strength, Aoba lifted his hand and pressed gently on Ren’s head. “Ren, wake up. We’re leaving.”

Ren’s eyes clicked open. “Forever, now?” he said, not wasting any words. 

“Yes, now. Someone is coming to get us. We have to pack up as much as we can in the 30 minutes before he arrives,” Aoba said, holding one of Ren’s front paws in each hand.

“Of course,” Ren said, gently shaking his paws free of Aoba’s grip, then hopping down from Aoba’s lap. Letting out a pathetic little cry, Aoba reached after him and scooped Ren up into his arms. Ren made a little noise of confusion as Aoba held him tightly to his chest, but didn’t move. Aoba’s quiet breathing seemed to echo in his ears. For a moment, the world shrank down to Ren’s small body, nestled in Aoba’s arms.

“You’ll help me, won’t you, Ren?” Aoba half-whispered. 

Comfortingly nuzzling up to Aoba’s neck, Ren replied, “Of course I will. But time is short, Aoba. We have to start now, come on. You can do it.”

Aoba breathed in deep the scent of Ren’s fur and gritted his teeth. 

“Let’s go,” he said, finally letting go and putting Ren down on the floor. Then he hauled himself to his feet. 

Aoba began, with cold and calculated efficiency, to move everything he owned into the living room. The computer, monitor, and both midis went first, then all of his clothing and toiletries. Aoba was just about to start pulling cardboard boxes out of the computer room to check which ones were his when the buzzer at the front door sounded. 

It had to be Clear, because Mink would never bother to ring the doorbell, and a member of Scratch would probably bang loudly to be let in. Still, Aoba’s hands were shaking as he looked through the peephole. Ren stood at attention beside him like a little canine soldier. 

A young man with white hair and a long white coat stood outside the door. He had, Aoba noted, a very gentle, proud face, while his posture was neat, polite, and neutral. Thank goodness, he looked exactly how Aoba would have imagined white-haired, jellyfish loving, overly enthusiastic Clear to look. Aoba peered out the peephole for a good 25 seconds, but his eyes did not deceive him. As Clear awkwardly shifted a little and went to reach for the doorbell again, Aoba undid the lock and pulled the door open. 

It was then that Aoba saw that Clear was wearing plain white gloves, and resisted the absurd urge to giggle. Who wore white gloves all the time? Not anyone Aoba knew, that was for sure. Fortunately, Clear broke the awkward silence before Aoba could really lose it.

“Excuse me, but are you Sly Blue-san?” Clear said, dipping his head politely and then cocking it to one side. 

“Yes, come in,” Aoba said, in case any of the neighbours who were never home should somehow be watching. He nodded in reply to Clear’s little bow, then ushered him inside.

As he came inside, Clear said, “It’s nice to meet you,” then bowed deeply.

“You too,” Aoba replied, bowing quickly as he could. “Almost all of my stuff is in the living room. I just have to get some more things from my room.”

“May I begin to move your possessions down to my motorcycle?” Clear said. His politeness was making Aoba antsy. If he had to bow again, Aoba might just fall over.

“Yes, but let Ren help you,” Aoba said. “He can tell you what’s packed properly.”

“Ren?” Clear said. Aoba indicated Ren, who had sat up on his haunches and was watching them both from the living room doorway. “Oh, your Allmate,” Clear said. “Nice to meet you.”

Ren looked startled, but then dipped his head. “Nice to meet you, too,” he said. Aoba was going to start throwing his stuff out the window if this show didn’t get on the road faster. 

“Can we please save the formalities for later?” Aoba managed to get out through gritted teeth. 

“I apologise,” Clear said, looking crestfallen, and Aoba just nodded and walked off to the computer room, ready to worry about the consequences of that one later. When he came out of the room, the front door was propped open and the broken midi keyboard had disappeared from the living room, along with Clear. Ren was industriously scouring the undersides of sofas and chairs to make sure nothing of Aoba’s was hidden under there. 

When Clear came back in, Aoba was dumping his clothing into an empty duffel bag. Between the two of them, under Ren’s coordination, they managed to clear everything out of the apartment in less than half an hour. Down the stairs, into the street, back up the stairs, into the living room, pick up some thing, then turn around again. “No, Clear, we’ll move that later.” “Aoba, put that thing down there.” “Clear, that doesn’t even belong to Aoba,” and so on and so on. Although Aoba didn’t have much stuff, the trailer was too small to fit all of it, so some things, like the lamp and a few towels, had to be left in a pile on the living room floor. Aoba dashed off a quick note to Mink and left it on top of the pile. Finally, the three of them moved the computer and monitor outside, and Aoba locked the door behind him. 

No time to look back. Downstairs, Aoba found that Clear had put most of his stuff into the trailer, but there was a rectangular space left for the electronics. Draped over the bike was Clear’s promised blanket, which he picked up to reveal a bike much smaller and more streamlined than Mink’s. Aoba hoped that it could carry two people and pull the trailer at the same time, but said nothing as Clear neatly lined the remaining space in the trailer with the blanket. 

“Shall we put the computer here?” Clear said, admiring his work. 

“Yes, it looks fine to me,” Aoba said, and even though he was still strung-out and floating high like an anxious balloon, he had enough self-possession to actually watch as together they tucked the computer and remaining electronics into the trailer. With the addition of a few pairs of Aoba’s pants, it was padded to satisfaction, and Clear closed and locked the trailer door.

“Let’s go,” Ren said, and Aoba gasped in dismay.

“Where is Ren going to ride?” he said, feeling his chest start to tighten up. Before he could panic, Clear held out a backpack that had been leaning up against the front tyre of the motorcycle.

“Let’s put him in here, and you can carry him,” Clear said, unzipping the main pocket. Nodding mutely, Aoba took the backpack and knelt down; Ren hopped in right away. Now Clear was holding something else out to Aoba – a white and pink motorcycle helmet. 

“I have my own,” Aoba said blankly

“Would you prefer if we returned for it?” Clear said, looking around as if it might materialise out of thin air. Angrily, Aoba shook his head at his own thoughtlessness. 

“No, I don’t. Thanks for offering me yours,” Aoba said, taking the helmet. Clear grabbed the second one that was dangling from the handlebars, and together they pulled on their helmets. As Clear sat down on the bike, Aoba hopped on behind him, a motion familiar yet somehow so different with a strange bike and a strange friend. Aoba wasn’t sure how much he should hold on to Clear, until Clear said:

“Be careful, Sly Blue-san. Hold on tightly and please don’t fall off!”

Then he finally turned the key in the ignition. 

It was then that Aoba heard a roar, not from the bike beneath them, but from another engine entirely – one he was very familiar with. Clear’s engine was loud, but no engine in the world could drown this out. Deep-throated, full-bodied, a terrible growl, a noise once familiar but now terrifying. Aoba knew when he turned around, what he would see – 

at the end of the street – a large black motorcycle – a glimpse of a long grey coat – tall-knotted brown hair – 

and then Clear accelerated and they were gone around the corner, and Aoba felt sick to his stomach and sick to his soul. But he didn’t hear the roar of that engine, the king of its kind, and it was impossible to say whether or not it had even been real – but they were gone, they were gone, they were gone.

“Excuse me, are you alright?” Clear said, and Aoba realised that there must be a microphone from Clear’s helmet to his, because he could hear Clear perfectly even with the bike in motion. He also realised that he was hyperventilating a little and started taking deep breaths to calm himself down. 

“I’m fine, thank you,” Aoba said loudly, not knowing whether the microphone thing went both ways. 

Slightly occupied with changing lanes, Clear didn’t reply for a moment. When he did, it was a terse, “Understood.” Aoba figured Clear wanted to concentrate on driving, which was fine by Aoba. 

Clear was a much calmer driver than Mink, always stopping at stop signs, using his turn signals, and not racing or dodging other cars. They didn’t speed through a single red light. In fact, they weren’t speeding at all, which was unusual for Aoba on a motorcycle. It made him antsy - a glance at his Coil confirmed that they had 20 minutes to get to the ferry, but what if they were being followed? Aoba had to resist the urge to glance behind them at every single light.

Finally, they arrived at the ferry dock, just five minutes before departure. The ferry that ran in the mornings and evenings was a no-car ferry, but it accepted bicycles and motorbikes. All of the passengers travelling on foot had already filed into the ferry, but the gangway was still open and waiting as Clear and Aoba arrived.

“Clear,” Aoba said anxiously, “Do you think we’re allowed to bring this trailer?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Clear said, again through the helmet mic. “Yesterday afternoon when I bought the tickets, I explained the whole situation to the man who sold them to me. He was very nice and understanding, and promised to let us on the boat no matter what.”

As Clear spoke, they pulled up to the ticket window. Clear pulled up the visor of his helmet and held out what looked to be about 10 tickets to the woman behind the counter.

“Hello,” Clear said cheerfully. “Here are our tickets!”

“Hello,” she responded, taking them from Clear's hand. Aoba held his breath as, frowning, she counted and re-counted them. 

“Excuse me, sir, but why do you have twelve tickets? I only see two people in your party,” the attendant said. 

“Everything should be in order. There is one ticket for me, one ticket for my friend, and ten for our trailer,” Clear explained. “It takes up the space of five people and is very heavy, so that is the solution I agreed to with the attendant from yesterday. If you think it’s not enough tickets, I would be happy to purchase more.”

Aoba didn’t understand anything anymore. Neither, apparently, did the lady behind the counter.

“Um… I see,” she said, smiling politely. “The ferry is about to leave, so why don’t you two board it. If there is a problem with the fare, I’m sure it can be resolved at the other end. Here are your ticket stubs. Have a nice day.”

“Bye!” Clear said, and without further ado they hastened straight onto the ferry. Clear parked the motorcycle beside a fleet of multi-coloured bicycles, then hung up his helmet and turned to Aoba. 

“Would you like to come look out the window with me?” he said. “I love riding the ferry, because sometimes you can see interesting things in the water, like fish and birds.”

Fish. And birds.

“Sure,” Aoba said, mostly because he didn’t want to be left alone. Taking only the backpack containing Ren, the two of them ascended the metal staircase to the upper deck, their footsteps ringing hollowly in the empty hull. Upstairs they found 15 rows of blue plastic seats, which took up most of the open deck. The seating area was about half full, occupied mostly by young couples and families on day trips. Aoba kinda wanted to sit down, but Clear headed straight for the peeling blue railing on the right side of the boat. 

It seemed that they had boarded right on time, because Aoba could see the gangway being raised with a metallic rattling of chains as two dock workers stood looking on, ready to undo the rope anchoring the ferry to the dock. Clear was peering down into the dirty grey water of the harbour, presumably looking for signs of life, but Aoba preferred to watch the tether rope being unwound. 

“Oh, look,” Clear started, pointing. Aoba turned his head, but then Clear sighed and put his hand back on the railing. “My mistake,” he said. “I thought there was a jellyfish, but it was just a plastic bag. Pollution is terrible.”

“Yes," said Aoba. Just then, the horn heralding the ferry’s departure rang out. As they started moving, Aoba grabbed onto the railing and watched as the dock slowly shrank out of view behind them. 

The journey from Midorijima to the mainland was supposed to take about an hour. Aoba spent the entire time staring in one direction: towards Midorijima, with its tree-lined coast and its sprawling old town, and the giant white wall of Platinum Jail towering over all. Clear continued to watch the waves, excitedly running back and forth from one side of the ferry to the other. Occasionally he would point out some interesting kind of seaweed or debris floating in the water, which Aoba would barely acknowledge with a nod of his head. After a while, Clear stopped trying to talk to him and let him contemplate the view in peace. 

The clear sky radiated with the warmth of a late May sun, promising hot and humid days soon to come, but the cold wind generated by the ferry’s passage prevented Aoba from feeling it. A cool spray caressed Aoba’s face and hands, which were still holding tightly to the railing. His unbrushed hair whipped painfully around his face, obscuring the view as Midorijima became a thin brown line on the horizon, ever topped with that great white wall like a large bank of cloud. Away from the harbour, the water became a deep green-ish blue colour and clearer, with a thin white crest on the wake trailing behind them. Aoba drifted away into that deep blue, only noticing that they were nearing the shore when the wavelets issuing from the boat’s wake began to grow farther apart.

Before he knew it, the ferry was pulling up alongside a long wooden pier. Clear returned to his side, peering at him anxiously and with a little uncertainty.

“We seem to have arrived, SlyBlue-san,” Clear said, and Aoba gave a weary smile. No doubt Clear was wondering if he had done something to offend Aoba, which of course, he hadn’t. Aoba would make it up to him tomorrow.

“Clear-kun,” Aoba said, “My name is Ao– I mean, you can call me Ao, or Aoi. Thank you for getting us this far. I’m in your hands.”

Clear smiled back, eyes lighting up like happy little candles.

“Don’t worry, I will get you home safely, Ao-san,” Clear declared, earnest expression matching earnest voice. Just then, the boat steward began indicating the way to the exit, so Aoba and Clear shuffled into line with the cheerful day-trippers and overexcited children. Aoba bore it all with a weary patience, while Clear wore a cheerful calm. Once descended into the hull, they took up their places on the motorcycle once again. Since they had been the last passengers onto the boat, they also got to be the first ones off. Aoba’s first thought when the tyres touched the solid road was overwhelming relief. 

As they exited the ferry terminal, they had to go through the same rigmarole with the trailer and the twelve tickets once again. Fortunately, it took all of five minutes, because this attendant didn’t seem to know what to do with them either, deferring to the judgement of the staff in Midorijima. After that they were back on the open road. Clear took a left turn out of the port and they diverted onto a coastal highway. On the right side of the road was a bank of green trees, while on the left a metal guard-rail kept the ocean at bay. 

The scenery of the mainland was completely different to that of Midorijima. There, he had been constantly surrounded by water, but only in an intellectual sort of way. Sure, Aoba had gone down to the beach occasionally with Granny and Sei when he was young, or later with friends, but it wasn’t like it was visible from anywhere in the Old Resident District. Now the ocean was right beside him, blue and shining no matter how many miles ticked by. And there were more trees here than Aoba had ever seen in one place at once. But the most startling part was a distinct absence – the wall of Platinum Jail, which was probably the most distinctive, omnipresent feature of Midorijima’s scenery. Here the sky stretched out from sea to trees with nothing in between.

The sea, trees, and sky were soothing to Aoba’s mind, and he finally began to relax. Leaning into Clear’s back, Aoba let his body uncoil and began to sit more naturally, instead of stiffly upright as he had been in Midorijima. This was a good thing, because here on the open road the over-loaded trailer made sharp turns a risky business. Aoba, too tired to care, just let Clear expertly guide the bike, and leaned to the left or right automatically as necessary to counterbalance the trailer. 

After a while, Clear took a new road which turned inland from the seashore, and the scenery changed. Now they were passing through small towns and villages, houses and gas stations and family supermarkets. Interspersed with these signs of human habitation were patches of lush vegetation on either side of the road. 

It was around this time that the unreality of the situation began to set in. Aoba was feeling well enough to truly comprehend the fact that he was no longer on Midorijima. But it all seemed so fake, with the wind and the noise were muffled by his helmet, almost like he was watching a movie of the world, or as if he himself were peering out of an underwater window. Aoba couldn’t help but feel that at any moment they might turn a corner, and there, in front of them, would be the tail-lights of Mink’s motorcycle. 

Mink…

A great weight settled into the pit of Aoba’s stomach. Aoba closed his eyes and shut out all the speeding trees. When he opened them, they were welling up with tears. Aoba found himself shivering uncontrollably, and he had to loosen his grip on Clear so he wouldn’t distract Clear from driving. Though he sniffed furiously, he couldn’t wipe away the tears welling up and spilling over without lifting his visor. And after that, they just wouldn’t stop. Soon fat, hot tears were trickling down Aoba’s cheeks and pooling around the base of his helmet, soaking the padding around his neck and jaw. All of the trees passing by became blurry, then indistinguishable. Aoba gritted his teeth, but the urge to sob was rising. The pain came in waves as visions of Midorijima, Mink, Granny, Sei, and Koujaku passed through his mind. God… 

A voice came through the helmet: “Ao-san, are you alright?” But Aoba couldn’t respond. 

The bike began to slow down and Aoba felt it, but it meant nothing to him. Were they there, at Clear’s house? Who knew, and who cared? The sound of the engine cut off and the comforting anchor of Clear’s back was lifted from his hands. Stumbling, Aoba turned towards him, but even after throwing one leg over the bike he didn’t have the strength to actually stand up. Then the helmet was lifted from his head, and Aoba didn’t even flinch as it brushed against his tender hair and his tear-stained face was revealed to the world. 

It was Clear. Clear was there, and seeing the honest concern on his face was more than Aoba could bear. As the tears came faster and thicker, Aoba tried to hide his face in his hands. An audible sob tore its way from his throat. Then another, then another, and then Aoba was bawling aloud in the middle of an oil-stained parking lot. Clear stood helplessly before him with the helmet in one hand. 

“Clear-kun, what am I going to do?” Aoba sobbed. Clear made a move as if to speak, but Aoba was beyond listening. “For all his flaws, I thought, I th-thought he cared about me. I kn-know that he did! So what is he g-going to d-do without m-me? Who else will love him?”

Aoba doubled over, still hiding his face and no doubt incomprehensible. “I t-tried s-so h-hard,” he managed to get out, and then that was that. All of Aoba’s words and thoughts dissolved into tears, and he gave himself over completely to his honest misery. So what if Clear was standing there watching his shame? So what if they were a million miles away from anything that Aoba could fix? So what if coming here had been a mistake? So what if things would never be the same again? So what? So what?

After a few minutes, the great, heaving sobs began to subside, leaving quiet, clean tears in their wake. Letting his hands drop limply into his lap, Aoba stared blindly out at the wall beside the parking lot, tears dripping down his face.

“Ao-san?” Clear said tentatively, but Aoba only shook his head. After a few more moments, Aoba gave a little cough and felt he might be able to speak again, but instead let the silence grow as a light breeze played over them. The bike creaked as Clear sat down beside Aoba, close enough that their shoulders were touching, and the contact was comforting.

“Perhaps,” Clear began at length, “it is not my place to say this. I have never met you before today, but we were already friends, right? I don’t think you are the kind of person who puts yourself before others too much. And I think that if someone has told you that you are the kind of person who does that, then they are the one who is wrong. So please don’t believe them.”

Clear’s tone was soft, but his eyes were steadfast and sure. A few tears rolled down Aoba’s cheeks, and he sniffed and wiped them away with the backs of his hand.

“Please don’t cry anymore, Ao-san,” Clear said. Aoba shook his head and was silent for a moment. A tear dripped from the end of his nose, then another, and then there were no more. Aoba felt empty, but it was a clean kind of empty. Coming here had not been a mistake after all. 

“Thank you, Clear,” Aoba murmured. Finally looking up at Clear’s face, he gave him a wan and watery smile. 

“I’m sorry that you had to see that,” Aoba said, but Clear shook his head. 

“My grandpa told me that if you are in pain, it’s okay to cry. I don’t know what happened to you, but it looks like you had a lot of pain inside you. Don’t feel bad because you had to cry to feel better. Those were his words.”

“Your grandpa?” Aoba asked, voice low and hoarse from crying. Clear nodded. 

“Yes, my grandpa who raised me,” he said. Well, that was interesting. Aoba wanted to know more about Clear – he really, really did – but not in the middle of a parking lot in god-knows-where, Japan. Besides, Aoba was exhausted. It wasn’t even noon, but Aoba just wanted to lie down and sleep. Maybe when he woke up, he'd have the energy to hold a conversation. 

“How long until we arrive at your house?” Aoba asked, and Clear thought about it for a moment.

“We’ll be there in about twenty minutes,” Clear said. Aoba let out a sigh of relief.

“Shall we get going?” Clear said, holding out the motorcycle helmet. 

“Yes please,” Aoba said, taking the helmet from Clear. “Is it alright if I take a nap when we arrive?”

“Of course,” Clear said, helping Aoba back onto the bike before regaining his own seat. 

After that, it was only another 20 minutes, just like Clear had promised. When they pulled up in the driveway of a small, freestanding two-story house, Aoba was surprised to see a rusted blue station wagon parked in the driveway. All the other details were lost on him as Clear ushered him inside, then into the downstairs bedroom, where Aoba sat on a chair and watched exhaustedly as Clear put clean sheets on the bed. Then Aoba took Ren from his bag, curled up on the bed, and turned out the lights.

Safe at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! That was a marathon, wasn't it? I'm experimenting with chapter lengths - I think it's important that this chapter be long because it's a bit of a marathon for poor Aoba, too. 
> 
> About what Noiz said: in this AU he was still abused as a child, but he has the ability to feel and somebody obviously helped him out, so he got mostly better. I'm not really going to go into the details in this fic, so headcanon what you want :3
> 
> If you're curious about the motorcycle trailer: [[x](http://motorcycle-rack.com/CycleTrailer/Wylie%20CT600%20400w_black_WLP.png)] Most likely.
> 
> Aoba’s chat client should be [Line](http://line.me/en-US/) because that's pretty popular in Japan, but anyone who has actually used Line will know that Aoba's chat client is nothing like that. The one I have Aoba using is actually most like Pesterchum, haha. (Don't get that, it's for Homestuck nerds only.)
> 
> mizu-hi is not as lame a name as it may sound. Its literal meaning is water-fire, and I thought Mizuki would pick it because it's like 2 of the four elements paired together, which is kinda cool. Plus it sounds like his own name. He's a big lame baby like that. (His Rib team is called Dry Juice, okay. He likes opposites.)
> 
> Idk if Midorijima is supposed to be in the ocean or not, but I've located it off the coast of Shizuoka (southeast, below Tokyo by a good ways). It's kinda like a cross between Hatsushima and Oshima. (Oshima is the right size but Hatsushima is closer to shore). I don't know the first thing about Shizuoka, but it geographically fits the location I had in mind for Midorijima. Just for funzies, [here's a video I found of someone riding a coastal highway in Niigata](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=THNCPdmT_4M). Of course, Niigata is in the north/mid west. Still, this is pretty typical Japanese scenery imo.
> 
> About the name Aoba asked Clear to call him - Ao is a diminutive of Aoba, and Aoi means blue. The first character of Aoba means blue, anyway (blue leaf, remember?). It's easy for Aoba to remember and respond to. Lucky for him he's so monochromatically themed.
> 
> By the way, this chapter is not even close to the ending. I don't know if people want this fic to be over or not, but I'd say we're between 1/3 and 1/2 of the way through, if I ever actually finish writing it... 
> 
> PLEASE TO GIVE FEEDBACK.


	8. The Note That Aoba Left

_Dear Mink,_

_I don’t think this relationship is working out anymore, so I’m leaving. You hurt Ren, and that’s inexcusable to me. I know you won’t understand, but there’s nothing I can do about that. And you’ll probably be angry that I left without telling you. I would be angry too. It was wrong to do that to you, and dishonest to myself as well. Maybe my justification was weak, but I didn’t want you to hurt me. I’m sorry._

_\--Aoba_


	9. Guilt

[ ](http://dmmd.wikia.com/wiki/Jellyfish_Song)

Slipping in and out between sleeping and waking, it was impossible to know whether Aoba was hearing something real or the echoes of song from a dream. When he opened his eyes, the sunlit room was still, but some remembered tune was still nagging somewhere at the back of his mind. The more he tried to remember, the more it slipped away, leaving him with the impression of having lost something beautiful. 

But this impression, too, faded. Instead, Aoba felt the unusual discomfort of being in a strange house and knowing nothing about it – including the location of the bathroom. As Aoba sat up, a lump in the covers beside him moved. A small blue head emerged. 

“Aoba,” said Ren. 

“Hello, Ren,” Aoba said, surprised since he didn’t remember having taken Ren out of sleep mode or putting him in the bed… that morning? Yesterday? The bright yellow light painted across the bedspread could have been the long glow of a sunset, or the fresh sun of morning. Impossible to tell without opening the curtain… or looking at his Coil, which wasn’t on his wrist. 

“Did you sleep well?” Ren asked, as Aoba patted the bedspread and looked around the room. 

“Yes, and do you see my – never mind,” Aoba said as he spotted his Coil on the bedside table. Retrieving it, he checked the time. 8:00 AM, so Aoba had slept for about 20 hours? Impossible. Still, the Coil screen didn’t lie. And neither did Aoba’s bladder, which was telling him that he needed to get up RIGHT NOW. 

“Hey, Ren, do you know where the bathroom is?” Aoba said hopefully. 

“I have been in this room with you since noon yesterday,” Ren said. “As a guest in this house, I didn’t think it was appropriate to go wandering around until we have been invited to do so. Besides, I don’t know what this Clear thinks of Allmates.”

Aoba frowned. “Clear’s a nice guy, so I wouldn’t worry about it. But you stay here for now, and I’ll go find him. Do you know where our luggage is?”

“Alas, this is another piece of information that cannot be found in any of my memory banks,” Ren said, sounding earnestly mournful. Aoba giggled, and then was glad that Clear hadn’t been around to hear it. Ren gave him a look that should have been disapproving but instead just looked fond. 

“I’ll be back,” Aoba said, untangling his legs from the sheets and heading for the door. When Aoba tried to open it, it seemed to be stuck. Well, he could pee out the window if absolutely necessary, but how was he supposed to get food if he was trapped inside this bedroom? Aoba shoved the door open with all his force, succeeding opening about a foot-wide gap. Aoba eyed it, sucked in his breath, and pushed out into the hallway. 

The thing blocking the door turned out to be Aoba’s luggage. All of it, save the electronics, had been piled up against the door. Aoba wondered if Clear had been hoping it would get inside his room via osmosis. But at least the electronics were safe against the far wall, in no danger of having been squished by the door or by Aoba, emerging. 

It seemed that the room Aoba had just slept in was at the end of a hallway plastered with fading cream wallpaper. Behind him was a solid wooden ladder going up to a door in the ceiling, which was currently closed. A string dangled down, inviting anyone who might be interested to come see the second floor. Aoba was not interested, but it was good to note for later. Along the wall to the right were 2 doorways, and there was one on the left beyond the one to the bedroom. At the far end, the hall was open, light flooding in from what looked like a kitchen beyond.

Unlike Ren, Aoba felt no guilt about looking into half-open doorways to see which room was the bathroom. He gave the door next to him a quick peek – just a closet, it seemed, dusty and full of brown boxes, though with more space in the centre than in Aoba’s closet at ho– at Mink’s apartment. Never mind that. The room on the same wall as Aoba’s bedroom turned out to be a small living area, covered in traditional tatami mats and sparsely furnished with a kotatsu and a few cushions. A quick glance into the room at the end of the hall confirmed that it was, in fact, the kitchen/dining area. The hallway diverted beside it to a small entryway, where Aoba had left his shoes last night – no, yesterday afternoon. So that left the door next to the closet, opposite the living room. 

Success. This room was, indeed, a bathroom. Internally sighing with relief, Aoba went in. As he was taking care of business, he decided to take a look at the messages on his Coil, in case anything interesting had happened while he was escaping and then asleep. From the number of notifications, it seemed like everyone he knew had decided to message or call him in the past 24 hours. First, there were three missed calls from Sei. Maybe something bad had happened at home, but it was more likely Sei had simply noticed the huge spike in Aoba’s stress levels. Besides, that could be dealt with later, since Aoba had been meaning to call Sei once he left Mink anyway. 

Speaking of Mink, there were two messages from him. Aoba felt his stomach drop when he saw the two notifications, and had to remind himself that Mink didn’t know where he was before his heart would calm down. Those two messages were a problem for later… much, much later.

Meanwhile, the emails he got from Ensou indicated that some of his Bluejay-related friends were trying to get ahold of him too. First of all, Noiz had sent him a message saying:

where are you? thanks for the updates, asshole

Aoba rolled his eyes, replied, “I’m not dead,” and then checked over the rest of his inbox. The other notifications showed about 50 new comments from other people, which was normal. One from among them stood out to him: some guy named Kansuzume, who he had never seen before, had left him a really long private message. That thing was a monstrosity, possibly over a page long. Aoba considered reading it later, but his curiosity got the best of him. 

For some reason, the message was addressed to Bluejay, not to Sly Blue, but Aoba figured the poster had just gotten the two of them confused. That happened sometimes. The letter opened with some standard buttering up, in the vein of “thanks for putting your music on the internet, wow, it is really good,” etc. Although he had heard these things before, Aoba still appreciated them. Especially from Kansuzume, who went on to say that he did not like most music in general. 

_But your music is special to me. Listening to Redbird’s Vision reminds me of my own life. I don’t know how you know so well what it’s like to want someone from afar, but it always feels real to me. Perhaps it should be painful for me to be reminded that I can’t be with someone who is important to me, but it’s comforting to know that I’m not alone in feeling this way. I don’t know if there is a chance for Prince Redbird and Bluejay to be together, but it gives me hope for my own life to think that there is. Although I don’t really deserve it. Dreams don’t feel like enough, but I can’t live without them. Isn’t that pathetic? Your music helps me have dreams instead of nightmares, and for that too, I thank you._

The rest of the message was more praise and a closing salutation, but Aoba ignored that. Something about this heartfelt letter touched a chord in him, so he re-read it two more times. Who was this mysterious fan who had somehow been touched by Aoba’s music? At the same time, the message made him slightly uncomfortable, pulling him back into yesterday’s world where Bluejay was still the property of Cockatiel, and the cold reality that Redbird was not only straight but living on an island 100 km away. No matter how he felt about it, though, Aoba couldn’t ignore Kansuzume’s message. It was his duty to respond to it, as the person who was responsible for Kansuzume’s feelings. 

“Thank you for your kind words,” Aoba wrote back. “It gives me hope to think there is a chance that Bluejay and Redbird could be together, too. I wish you all the best.”

That should do it. Aoba closed out Ensou and finished up in the bathroom. 

For some unknown reason the hot and cold taps were switched, and now that he was paying attention Aoba saw that pretty much everything in the room was a little shabby. Not uncared for, just worn out. As a young man living alone, it was no surprise that Clear didn’t have much money to take care of a house. Then again, where was the grandfather that Clear had mentioned? Probably already deceased, Aoba thought, and then felt guilty for it. 

Well, if there was a grandfather in this house, he sure was keeping quiet about it. Clear hadn’t put in an appearance yet, either, so maybe he had gone out. Starting to feel a little hungry, Aoba wandered into the kitchen. Unlike using someone else’s bathroom, cooking someone else’s food was a little too socially inacceptable for Aoba. He was so tempted to start looking around in the closets and the fridge to see what Clear had around so he would know what to make later, but that was an idea that would probably lead to unauthorised food consumption. Instead, Aoba prowled around the kitchen restlessly for a few moments before plopping down into a kitchen chair. Maybe it would be better to just call Sei right now. Or message Noiz with something less flippant. Hadn’t he told himself he would write a song for Noiz?

Aoba was just starting to absently drum out a little beat on the kitchen table when he heard the sound of an engine and looked out the window over the sink. It was Clear, on his motorcycle, and he had a big cardboard box strapped to the back of it. From the looks of it, Clear would never be able to both lift the box and open the front door at the same time, so Aoba hastily got to his feet and went quickly to the front door. 

When Aoba opened the door, Clear stepped back in surprise, and Aoba was astounded to see him carrying the box with just one arm. Either it was lighter than it looked, or Clear was somehow freakishly strong. 

“Welcome back,” Aoba said, stupidly, like he actually lived there. 

But Clear only smiled and replied with the standard, “I’m back!” and then added, “I went shopping.”

So that was what was in the box – groceries. Perfect timing. Aoba’s stomach rumbled. Clear, who had set the box on the floor and was undoing the laces of his boots, looked up in chagrin.

“You’re hungry,” Clear said. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of that before I went out. Please wait a moment and I’ll come make you something.”

“It’s fine,” Aoba said hastily, because there was no time like the present to make himself useful. “If you tell me where the ingredients are, I can cook for myself. I used to do it all the time, with M- um, before.”

“Are you sure?” Clear said, picking up the box again and leading the way into the kitchen. Setting the box on the table, he continued, “I thought it would be much more enjoyable for both of us to eat together, but if that is what you would prefer…”

And that was the opposite of what Aoba had meant. “No, no,” he said hastily. “I meant that I could do the cooking around here, because I want to help.” Clear put the box on the table and began taking things out of it. From what Aoba could see, there was no rhyme or reason to any of Clear’s purchases. On the one hand, there was some tomato paste, but on the other, there were some shrimp-flavoured crisps, and there was a box of fancy biscuits. 

“Oh,” Clear said, putting the fancy biscuits inside a closet that seemed to contain mostly baking supplies, “I didn’t think of that. Why don’t we make lunch together? And after that, we can take turns. By the way, I bought most of these things for you, because I don’t know what you like to eat. From now on, please tell me what you like so we can get more of it, okay?”

Clear was making Aoba feel very guilty, with his kindness and his consideration and his unwarranted out-of-pocket expenditures. Okay, so technically Clear and Aoba were already good friends, but Aoba was still a guest in Clear’s house. Aoba stood in the middle of Clear’s kitchen helplessly and wondered how he would ever be able to repay any of this. There was nothing for it but to take Noiz’s advice and hope it would be enough.

“Thank you,” Aoba said, feeling his words pathetically inadequate. Clear turned around and smiled broadly. 

“Of course, Ao-san,” he said. “You’re a guest in my house, after all.”

How did that even make logical sense?!

“Shall we cook?” Clear said. Aoba nodded, and they set to work preparing a simple fried rice. It would be more a brunch than a lunch, but if Clear didn’t mind eating fried rice at 9:00 AM, Aoba didn’t mind either. Aoba was glad to find that Clear’s kitchen was both neat and orderly, although the taps on the sink were reversed again and some of the drawers were sticky. 

“My grandpa made a lot of repairs to this house, but he passed away last year,” Clear just casually tossed out. “Please excuse the state of the house, because I am not very good at fixing things.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Aoba said, peeling a carrot and praying this conversation didn’t devolve into endless condolences. 

“It’s okay,” said Clear. “I miss him, but you’re here now, so I’m not alone anymore. You’re sleeping in his old room.”

Aoba nearly cut himself with the vegetable peeler, which would have been a pretty impressive feat. Regaining himself and deciding to try and divert the conversation, Aoba said, “By the way, what’s with the car outside? You could have used that instead of the trailer.”

“That car belonged to my grandpa,” Clear said. “It broke right before he passed away, and it is very expensive to fix a car. So now it just reminds me of him.”

Of course.

“By the way,” Clear said, as Aoba scraped the carrots off the cutting board into the communal vegetable bowl, “Where’s your Allmate? Is he alright?”

Pleasantly surprised that Clear seemed to be concerned about Ren, Aoba said, “I left him in my room. Why? Is that okay?”

“Would you prefer for him to have free run of the house? I am not afraid of dogs, so I don’t mind,” Clear said. Finally, he put all of the rice and vegetables into a frying pan, and Aoba sat down at the kitchen table again.

“Oh,” Aoba said. Suddenly, he felt all warm inside. A sweet sensation that he hadn’t savoured in a long, long time. It was refreshing and filling, like going into the sun on the first day of spring. Aoba smiled. 

“By the way,” said Clear, “I left all of your things outside of your door for you. I hope that you were able to find them.”

Aoba remembered how he had had to force the door open earlier, and laughed. “Yeah, I almost fell over them. I can just go ahead and put my stuff in the bedroom, right?”

“Of course,” Clear said. “Because I didn’t have much notice of your arrival, I didn’t really get a chance to clear out the closet in that room. Please allow me to do that first. Also, I don’t know if your computer will fit in there, as there is no desk. My grandpa usually worked in the living room, but he did not have a computer. I will have to find a desk or a table that is suitable for you. Perhaps there is one in my room that will do.”

“You can’t just give me your desk!” Aoba said, scandalised. The rice was almost done now, sizzling merrily as a delicious smell filled the room. Clear flipped the rice on the bottom of the pan with a wooden spatula and frowned thoughtfully at the pot.

“But you need a desk to work, don’t you?” he said. “How else will you make music?”

Aoba sighed. First things first, he would have to get his keyboard fixed, although he could make do with the smaller midi controller with the time being – assuming it hadn’t been damaged by being dumped on the floor. To get the keyboard fixed, he would need money, and that meant making more songs. So, he had to have a space to work. But that didn’t mean he would go stealing pieces of furniture out from under Clear’s nose. 

“In um, my last apartment, my workspace was in a closet,” Aoba said. “I just need a flat surface to put the monitor and keyboard on, power, internet access, and a chair.”

As he spoke, Clear turned off the stove, lifted the pan, and started piling rice onto two plates. Going to put the pan down again, Clear paused. 

“In a closet?” he said, looking thoughtful. Aoba remembered the storage closet at the end of the hall and wondered if Clear planned to put him in there, which wouldn’t be such a bad life, assuming there were no mice. 

“Yes?” Aoba said. Clear set the pan on the counter, put the spatula in it, and whirled around excitedly. 

“I have it!” he said, startling Aoba with his enthusiasm. “There is a shed in the garden, which my grandpa used to do various repair jobs. I can’t use the things in there, so it seems like a waste to leave it empty. Why don’t we clean it out for you? The internet in this house is connected to the phone lines, and there was a phone in the shed in case of emergencies, so you should be able to use Ethernet in there. It’s perfect!”

A garden shed? Well, it would be the strangest place Aoba had ever set up shop, but he kinda liked the sound of it. A place just for himself, himself and his music. Assuming Clear’s sketchy plan to make the internet work actually held, this could be the perfect place. 

“Yes please,” Aoba said, and Clear smiled, handing him a plate full of rice. And so, at 9:30 in the morning, Aoba and Clear ate lunch together. Clear immediately started talking about his plans to clear out the shed – which was apparently very dusty, old, and full of power tools – and Aoba added useful comments like “I hope neither of us is allergic to dust” around mouthfuls of fried rice. Aoba ended up having three helpings, he was so hungry. 

\---

Near the end of the meal, Aoba’s Coil alerted him to an incoming message. It was Noiz, saying: 

good for you, now give me some details

Aoba was immediately reminded that he had to call Sei, which he mentioned off-handedly to Clear. Although Clear wanted Aoba to call Sei while he did the dishes, Aoba insisted on helping again. Sei had waited over 24 hours; he could stand to wait half an hour more. But while his hands were occupied, Aoba found himself growing more and more nervous. Would Sei be angry with him for leaving Midorijima? Would Sei be angry with him because of the last time they had spoken? Had something bad happened at home? It was impossible to know. Any ability he had to feel Sei’s feelings had vanished with the physical distance. 

Clear, noticing Aoba’s distress, tried to surreptitiously speed up his dish-drying, which made Aoba feel guilty all over again. 

“Has it been a long time since you spoke to your brother, Ao-san?” Clear said politely. “I have never seen you mention him online.”

Actually, Aoba had posted a song for Sei to his Sly Blue account, but after starting the whole Bluejay thing he had taken it down because it didn’t really fit with the story. Besides, it was supposedly for Sei’s webcomic – not that Aoba had ever actually sent it to him. The time it had been posted was around the time Aoba had left Granny’s house. Maybe that song could be a good peace offering now, which, while a comforting thought, also made Aoba feel guilty. It had been so long... seven, almost eight months. Anxiety crept into Aoba’s belly.

“It’s been a while,” Aoba admitted. Clear nodded, eyes round and serious. 

Putting the last pair of clean chopsticks away in their drawer, Clear said, “I am going to my room now. If you need anything, please call me. I hope that your brother is well.”

“Thanks,” Aoba said, his mouth a little dry. Clear looked at him for a moment, like he was going to add something else, then shook his head and left the room. Slowly, Aoba sat back down at the table and pulled up Sei’s name on his Coil. He stared at it for a moment, wondering if he should go get Ren to give him courage, but no. Sei had the right to be angry with him, and Aoba would just have to face the consequences that he had brought on himself. 

Telling himself he would just test the waters, he sent Sei a message saying, “Hey, it’s me. Can I call you?”

Almost instantly, Sei’s reply popped up on the screen: “Please do!”

Aoba had never known Sei not to be polite, except maybe to people he really, really hated, so this message told Aoba practically nothing. But there was no way he could put it off any longer. Aoba pressed the button for a video call. 

Just as speedily as he had answered Aoba’s message, Sei picked up the call in less than half a ring. 

Though Sei was sitting at his desk with more than one of the multi-coloured lights on, Aoba could still tell that Sei looked tired, the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced than usual, and his usually neat hair slightly dishevelled. Aoba’s first impulse was to ask if Sei was eating alright, but somehow he just couldn’t find the words. 

“Sei…” Aoba said, and Sei smiled. 

“You’re safe,” he said. “Thank goodness. I was so afraid that something had happened to you.”

The relief was so visible on his face that Aoba’s throat constricted. He swallowed heavily. 

“Are you in Mink’s apartment?” Sei said, because Aoba hadn’t once video chatted him while there, so he didn’t know what it looked like. Aoba shook his head. 

“No,” he managed to get out, and Sei’s face fell. 

“So something did happen,” Sei said quietly, and Aoba shook his head again. 

“Sei, I left Midorijima,” he said all in a rush. Sei’s mouth fell open in shock, but Aoba hastily continued. “I left Mink. I’m not living with him anymore. I’m on the mainland.”

“You left Mink?” Sei gasped, and his face broke into a radiant smile once more. “Aoba, I’m so – I’m going to tell Granny right away!”

He made as if to get up, but Aoba moved faster than him, instinctively standing and jolting Sei’s view of him through the camera on the Coil. 

“Wait!” Aoba said, throwing his hand out and grabbing the back of his chair. “Please don’t tell her yet. Wait until this conversation is over, okay? I know she’s still angry with me.”

Sei looked confused. “But she’ll probably want to talk to you.”

Since Aoba could barely handle talking with Sei, there was no way he could face an angry Granny right now, so he shook his head. “Sei, please. Just tell her later, okay?”

After hesitating a moment, Sei sank back into his seat, and Aoba sighed, feeling one part relief and another part guilt. This burden of guilt, far worse than any anger on Sei’s part, felt like it was going to crush him. Guilt, guilt, everywhere he turned – Sei, Granny, Clear, Mink, Koujaku, Mizuki. It seemed as if Aoba had somehow managed to hurt, alienate, or inconvenience everyone he had ever cared about, except for maybe Noiz. 

But Aoba wouldn’t let that guilt hold him back. From now on, he would do whatever it took to make it up to everyone he loved. How, he didn’t know. But this, here, with Sei. This was a start. 

“So, where are you?” Sei said. “And where’s Ren?”

“Ren’s in my room,” Aoba said. “Where’s Cerise?”

“Asleep on top of the wardrobe,” Sei said in a conspiratorial whisper, and Aoba smiled. How Cerise got to places like that, only she and Sei knew. “But Aoba… you didn’t say. Why did you go to the mainland?”

That was an easier question to answer than “Where are you?” because Aoba didn’t actually know where Clear’s house was in relation to Midorijima, just a rough estimate of distance and the knowledge that it had taken them about an hour and twenty minutes to drive there, not counting Aoba’s breakdown in the parking lot. 

“I don’t know where I am,” Aoba admitted, and Sei looked understandably confused. “I’m living with my friend Clear.”

“Oh,” Sei said softly, sadly, and Aoba completely did not understand. 

“So you have a new boyfriend, then?” Sei said, and Aoba just gaped at him. 

“What? Of course not. I left Mink yesterday. And I don’t – Clear isn’t – No!” he said, understanding now why Sei looked so upset, and his heart sank. Did it really seem like Aoba was that desperate to be with someone? But Aoba couldn’t be angry with Sei for making that assumption – although he could be a little irritated that Sei looked completely unconvinced by his protests. Fortunately, there was an easy way to solve the problem. Clear was so inoffensive-looking and polite-sounding that there was no way Sei could see him as a threat to Aoba’s happiness – or romantic independence. 

“Hold on,” Aoba said, and Sei nodded anxiously as Aoba stood and left the kitchen. Once in the hallway, he realised that he had no idea where Clear’s bedroom actually was. There was only one bedroom in the main hallway, and it was Aoba’s. So, he had no choice but to raise his voice and shout Clear’s name as loudly as he could. 

A few moments later, Aoba nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard several heavy thuds coming from directly over his head. At the far end of the hallway, the trapdoor in the ceiling swung open, and Clear’s boots appeared on the top rung of the ladder. Clear slid down it with practiced ease, landing with a thud. 

“Yes, Ao-san? What is it? Is something wrong?” Clear said, as Aoba stared at him in total shock. On the screen being projected from the Coil, Sei was mirroring Aoba’s expression. 

“Uh, sorry to bother you,” Aoba said, as the little string on the outside of the trap door waved merrily behind Clear. “My brother wanted to meet you. Is that okay?”

“I would be honoured to meet any of your family,” Clear said enthusiastically, so Aoba took the Coil off his wrist and held it up so Clear and Sei could see each other. 

“Um,” said Sei, who had never been particularly good at meeting strangers. 

“This is Clear-kun,” Aoba said patiently, wishing he knew Clear’s last name so he could introduce him properly. “Clear-kun, this is my brother, Sei.” For all that he was using Sei’s first name, Aoba was careful not to say their last name. Now that he knew Mizuki was part of their online friend group, he had to be more secretive around Clear, at least in terms of obvious identity details. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Sei-san,” Clear said, bowing. Aoba thought back to yesterday morning. Given how much Clear liked bowing, meeting Sei should be a field day for him. 

As predicted, Sei hastily stood up and bowed back in response. 

“Thank you for taking care of my brother,” Sei said. 

“I’m happy to have Ao-san living here with me,” Clear said. “Ever since I met him online it has been my dream to meet him in person, so I am the lucky one.”

“You met online?” Sei said, and that was a can of worms that Aoba really, really didn’t want to open. 

“Yes, we did, and now, we’re here,” Aoba interjected. “Here, wherever we are.”

“Shizuoka,” Clear supplied helpfully. “I met Ao-san because of his beautiful music. Although I was born in Midorijima, I have never visited it until two days ago when I went to meet him. It was a very nice place. I think I would like to go back one day.”

“You’ve heard Aoba’s music?” Sei said, and Aoba knew this conversation could end one of two ways: badly, or quickly.

“Yes, yes he has. I’m sorry to have bothered you, Clear-kun. Please go back to whatever it was you were doing,” Aoba said, putting the Coil back on his wrist. Clear looked a little disappointed, but he nodded. 

“As you wish, Ao-san. Goodbye, Sei-san!”

“Goodbye,” Sei said, and Aoba hastily made his way back into the kitchen before Sei could start asking more questions that might lead him to Aoba’s Ensou account. Even inside the kitchen, he could still hear Clear’s trap door swing shut, and he wondered how he has missed that earlier. 

“Wow,” Sei said. “Clear-san seems really, really nice.” 

“He is,” Aoba assured him. “I’ve known him for about nine months. He’s very trustworthy.”

“I wish I could tell him that I like his hair,” Sei said, and Aoba raised one eyebrow. Was it just his imagination, or was Sei a little bit starstruck? 

“Um, I’ll see if he wants to give you his number,” Aoba said, and Sei immediately went red. 

“No, no, please don’t do that,” he said. “You don’t even have to tell him what I said. I’m just really glad he’s nice.”

“Uh-huh,” said Aoba, who knew very well when his brother was dissembling. Better change the subject and save them both some embarrassment. “By the way, I have something for you.”

“What?” Sei said. Aoba took a deep breath. 

“I wrote a song for your webcomic, just like you asked,” he said, going into the chat options so he could send the file over. Sei gasped loudly. 

“Really?” he said, and when Aoba looked up, he actually couldn’t believe his eyes – Sei appeared to be tearing up with happiness. Well, if that didn’t make him feel like shit for having put this off for so long. 

“Yeah, I finished it a while ago,” Aoba said off-handedly as the file sent. 

[ ](https://youtu.be/H3B42WdfKfw)

“Thank you,” Sei said, smiling and wiping his eyes. “Wow… now I know that things really are getting better,” he said. “I wish you weren’t so far away, but – thank you, Aoba.”

“Don’t thank me,” Aoba said roughly. “This is just what I owe you. But I guess you’re right,” he added, trying to soften his words a little. “Things are fine now.”

“When I have uploaded this to the comic, do you want me to let you know?” Sei said. 

“No need, I’ve been keeping up with it,” Aoba said truthfully. Sei smiled like the sun had just come out.

Although he didn’t feel he deserved to get a look like that for not failing the minimum standard for being a good brother, it still made Aoba feel good to see Sei smile like that. He told himself it was okay to just accept it, this gift of acceptance and love that Sei bestowed on him as easily and as regularly as breathing. Even if Aoba didn’t deserve it yet, the promise he had made to himself earlier still stood. Whatever it took, Aoba would try and make it up to Sei, and everyone else who had the right to be angry with him – even Granny. 

Aoba and Sei spent about another hour chatting to each other, although since half of Aoba’s life had been Mink and the other half was secret, Sei did most of the talking. Apart from working on his webcomic, Sei had some funny stories from work, Granny, and Koujaku. When Sei mentioned Koujaku’s name, Aoba felt a strange swell of excited nervousness, and had to work very hard to maintain his calm façade. That was definitely a disproportionate reaction for all the news he managed to get out of Sei – that Koujaku was still spending time at their house, that Koujaku was still “like a really cool older brother”, and that Koujaku missed him and was concerned about him. Aoba gave Sei permission to tell Koujaku where he was and tried not to think about it. 

After that the conversation wound down, so the two brothers said goodbye and went their respective ways – Sei to talk to Granny, and Aoba to unpack. And to give a big hug to Ren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs:  
> Clear's Jellyfish Song, sung by his seiyuu (voice actor), Masatomo Nakazawa. Sorry about having to link you to the wiki. I really wanted that mostly a capella version for this fic.  
> Retro Game, from the DMMD anime soundtrack
> 
> Translation note: Sei calls Aoba nii-san, whereas Aoba calls Sei nii-chan. I thought this was a cute solution to the fact that we don’t know who was born first.]
> 
> This chapter felt like a lot of literary housekeeping. I hope it still reads okay. 
> 
> Comments/questions/feedback always welcome!!


	10. A Sparrow In Winter

_Ping!_

Koujaku glanced at the screen of his Coil and saw, to his utter astonishment, that someone from Ensou had tried to contact him. When he realised that the notification was for a reply to the message he had sent to SlyBlue, he was at once shocked and slightly nervous. The reason he had created an Ensou account in the first place was completely beyond him, although wanting to praise Bluejay he could justify but saying to himself that Bluejay clearly deserved it. But never in a million years would Koujaku have imagined that someone as important as Bluejay, who now had around 5,500 followers, might deign to reply to one short message from someone he didn’t even know. 

But here it was. Koujaku hesitated for a moment, then opened the message.

_Thank you for your kind words. It gives me hope to think there is a chance that Bluejay and Redbird could be together, too. I wish you all the best. -SlyBlue_

It shouldn’t have been possible, but Koujaku was even more surprised by the answer than he was at the fact of getting the message in the first place. In his mind, SlyBlue (or Bluejay/lowkey Aoba-stand-in, which was how Koujaku thought of the artist) would have no doubts about whether or not his two characters could be together. If all of this was just a story, didn’t that mean SlyBlue controlled what was going to happen? But here he was making it sound like the characters had a life of their own. Or maybe he was saying that he hadn’t planned how the story would end yet. 

In spite of all of these valid conjectures, Koujaku’s heart was telling him something else. It was hard to give voice to, because Koujaku felt pretentious and unworthy just thinking about the possibility. But somehow it felt as if SlyBlue, like Koujaku, was a little bit lost. Maybe he, too, was in love with someone he couldn’t have. Of course, Bluejay had Cockatiel as well as Redbird, but Koujaku had heard the songs about him – they were the kind of songs you would write for someone who was second best.

Koujaku realised that he had been aimlessly staring at SlyBlue’s reply for the past five minutes, and closed the Ensou app on his Coil, shaking his head at himself. There went ‘projecting you feelings onto a celebrity’ added to the list of all his other sins. This was a little one, in the grand scheme of things. Thank goodness.

\---

That afternoon, Koujaku and a couple of members of Beni Shigure were walking around near the borders of their territory, when they ran into a small posse from Bug Bomb. Instead of a group fight, they agreed to bet part of their land on a championed fight between Koujaku and some guy from Bug Bomb who looked like he thought he was real hot shit. Well, Koujaku took care of him pretty quickly in a short but intense fight, ending with a small two-block-wide strip of land becoming part of Beni Shigure’s territory. He was still being patted on the back by his overexcited team-mates when his Coil rang again – not a message alert, but an actual call. 

“Boooooo,” complained Ringo when Koujaku glanced down at the screen as if to answer it. 

“Watch it be Ichigo,” said Nashi, referring to a member of Beni Shigure who had been sick for three days and sending everyone pathetic texts about it. But to Koujaku’s surprise, it was none other than Sei Seragaki. Since Sei rarely called except to ask if Koujaku wanted to come over for dinner, Koujaku figured it was just another invitation and decided to ignore it. 

“It’s Sei,” Koujaku informed his friends. Nashi, who had draped one arm over Koujaku’s shoulders, tried to read Koujaku’s Coil screen as he hit the mute button. Most of Beni Shigure knew the Seragakis because Aoba spent a fair amount of time hanging out with them because of Koujaku – although he also spent a fair amount of time with Mizuki and Dry Juice, that little traitor. Not that Koujaku wasn't friends with Mizuki himself.

“Your best friend’s brother? Isn’t it rude to ignore him?” said Momo. 

“No way!” Ringo said, squeezing between Momo and Koujaku so he could give Momo a friendly dig in the ribs. “We have better things to do. Come on, let’s all go to a bar to celebrate.”

“And have Bug Bomb take back our new turf as soon as our backs are turned? I don’t think so,” Kudamono said, as Koujaku’s Coil pinged again, this time with the sound for a message. Having fought hard, Koujaku was a little tired and unwilling to participate in the argument, although he wasn’t about to let it show. Instead, he mentally debated whether or not he should read the text now or later. Probably now.

“They don’t care about two measly blocks,” Nashi said to Kudamono.

“These blocks have an arcade in them,” Ringo shot back. “I would totally fight for an arcade if it was my territory.”

Tuning out his friends’ banter, Koujaku scanned Sei’s message. It was just two lines of text: 

Koujaku-kun, I’m sorry to bother you. But I have very important news about Aoba, so please call back soon.

News of Aoba…?

Koujaku had to work very hard to maintain a neutral expression. 

“Hey, I’m not going to be the one standing out here watching two streets with an arcade in them all night,” Nashi was complaining, as Koujaku looked up. 

“So we get some reinforcements, okay?” Kudamono said, gesturing so wildly he almost smacked Koujaku in the face. Nashi was now holding onto Koujaku’s shoulders so tightly that he was nearly pulling his kimono sleeve off. Gingerly, Koujaku disentangled himself from the group and tried to back away from them without being noticed. 

“Hey, boss, where are you going?” said Momo, and everyone turned to look at him. Koujaku really hoped they didn’t think he was trying to skip out on them or something.

“I have to take this call after all,” Koujaku said, a little sheepishly. “By the way, I think Momo is right, and our new territory is safe for tonight. Someone put a tag on it and let’s all go for drinks, okay?”

“Hey, that’s what I said, not Momo,” Nashi said, and Koujaku winced, but nobody noticed. 

“Whatever, you heard the boss,” Momo cut in. “I call being the one to tag it, and I’m gonna put it on the back of the arcade.”

“No fair, it should be Koujaku-san because he won the fight,” Ringo said, but Koujaku didn’t even look up at the mention of his name. He had retreated a couple paces away and was pressing the ‘redial’ button on his Coil. 

After two rings, Sei picked up. 

“Koujaku-kun, guess what?” Sei said, and Koujaku’s heart leapt. There was no mistaking the joy in his voice. 

Cupping his other hand over his ear to hear better over the noise of Beni Shigure’s loud chatter, Koujaku said, “Tell me.”

“Aoba left Mink!” Sei said. Koujaku suddenly couldn’t breathe. 

“You mean he’s home?” Koujaku said.

Sei paused, and Koujaku’s stomach dropped when at last he spoke again.

“He’s on the mainland,” Sei said. “In Shizuoka.”

The _mainland_? What could possibly have happened to make Aoba go to the mainland, of all places? Maybe it was stupid for Koujaku to generalise this much, but his own experiences had taught him that the mainland was not the place for a Midorijima native to be. Why would Aoba leave his friends and family to go to a place he’d never been before? He couldn’t seriously think – no. How could Aoba – did he not know how much Sei wanted him to come home? 

“Excuse me?” said Koujaku, because what else was he supposed to say to that kind of announcement. Strangely, Sei didn’t sound at all perturbed as he answered Koujaku’s question.

“He is living with a friend that he met on the internet, who is really nice. He thinks he can’t come home because Granny’s still angry, you know that. It’s weird, but he seemed to think you would be angry at him too. I know it’s not ideal, but Aoba did promise to come back soon. I’m just so happy, I can’t believe it.”

Koujaku, for one, was still angry enough to happily decapitate Mink on sight, but he was glad that Sei was feeling better.

“I’m so glad he left Mink,” Koujaku said honestly, though he could barely say Mink’s name without spitting. 

“Yeah, Granny has agreed to make doughnuts for us tonight in celebration,” Sei said, and Koujaku knew what was coming next. “Would you like to come over to have some?”

“Um,” Koujaku said, and stopped when he had a realisation. Earlier, he had told Momo, Nashi, Kudamono, and Ringo that they should go out for drinks to celebrate getting this piece of territory away from Bug Bomb. Koujaku really, really wanted to go – and that was the warning that he probably shouldn’t. Going to a bar and socialising with his friends always made him feel better, but right now he was just a little too tired and a little too angry. Koujaku could absolutely not afford to lose control by accidentally letting himself get drunk. Plus, in this state, there was a high chance of embarrassing himself by letting the mask crack and revealing something that he shouldn’t. If he said yes to Sei, he had a legitimate excuse to get out of all of those risks. 

“Yeah, I’ll come,” Koujaku decided. 

Sei said, “Great! I’ll tell Granny,” and Koujaku nodded, mostly to himself. 

“See you soon,” Koujaku replied. He and Sei exchanged goodbyes, and Koujaku ended the call. 

“So what’s this about Aoba?” Ringo yelled, and Koujaku started, realising that his friends had stopped arguing amongst themselves and were looking at him expectantly. 

“He isn’t affiliated with Scratch anymore, but he won’t be coming to visit,” Koujaku said, which elicited a disappointed “Booooo” from Ringo, who was swiftly elbowed in the side by Momo. 

“That’s good, right?” Kudamono said diplomatically. 

“Yes,” said Koujaku, managing a grin. “Sei wants me to come celebrate with him and Tae-san, so I can’t join you guys tonight. Sorry.”

That elicited some disappointed complaints from the peanut gallery, but Koujaku had already made up his mind. After making sure that someone was going to take care of his request to tag their new territory and finding out that Momo had won the argument and was going to do it right away, he excused himself again and set off for the Seragaki house.

\---

When Tae-san opened the door for Koujaku, she was wearing her best pretend-angry scowl. “Welcome back. I hear you’ve come to take advantage of my generosity by eating all my doughnuts,” she said, and Koujaku couldn’t help but grin. 

“Hello, Tae-san. You know I would never take your kindness or your doughnuts for granted,” Koujaku said, as he deposited his shoes neatly in the entrance-way. 

“Hah! That’s just what someone who aimed to take advantage would say,” said Tae-san, as the two of them made their way to the kitchen. This time, the table was already set, and Sei was leaning against the counter with Cerise on his shoulder. As soon as he saw Koujaku, Sei immediately ran over to him. 

“Koujaku-kun!” Sei said, beaming from ear to ear. To Koujaku’s surprise, Sei grabbed him in a quick hug, and Cerise took the opportunity to jump onto Koujaku’s shoulder. 

“Aoba’s coming home!” Cerise said, in her childish, piping voice. “Do you think it will be next week? Do you?”

“Probably not for a long time,” Koujaku said, not wanting to get Cerise’s or Sei’s hopes up. 

“Two weeks then!” said Cerise, and Koujaku laughed awkwardly. 

“Settle down now,” Tae-san said, giving Sei a look. 

Reaching for Cerise, Sei said in a tender tone, “Come on now, Cerise. We don’t want you falling into the soup.”

“Aww, but I wanna talk to Koujaku,” said Cerise, as Sei lifted her from Koujaku’s shoulder and Tae-san took a seat. 

“Later, maybe,” Koujaku said, as Sei patted Cerise on the forehead lightly to put her into sleep mode. After putting Cerise down in the living room, Sei came back. Koujaku’s hand was poised to pull out his chair and sit down when a loud, insistent knock sounded at the front door. 

“Who is that?” Koujaku said, startled. 

“Go see who it is,” Tae-san said, and Sei nodded and went to get the door. The knock sounded again, but Koujaku didn’t hear the sound of the door opening. A moment later, Sei appeared back in the kitchen, face completely pale. 

“It’s Mink,” he said. 

Koujaku had turned around and was heading for the door before his brain had time to register that his feet were moving. He was so glad that he had just come from a fight, because his sword was waiting for him in the entryway right beside his shoes. If Mink so much as raised a finger, Koujaku was going to stab him through the kidneys without a second thought. He was going to hurt – he was going to _kill_ – 

Hand on his sword hilt, Koujaku forced himself to stop. This was the Seragaki household. Sei was here, and Tae-san too. If Koujaku killed Mink on their doorstep – and there was no sure outcome to a fight between the two of them – it was Sei and Tae-san who would have to deal with the consequences. Sei and Aoba were his to protect, and that’s what he would do, he would _protect_. No matter how much Koujaku burned to hurt, to cut, to tear – he couldn’t do it here. Not unless Mink was asking for it.

As Mink’s insistent knocking sounded for a third time, Koujaku could distinctly hear him say through the door, “I know you’re in there!” Meanwhile, Sei and Tae-san had caught up with his quick reflexes and were standing in the hallway behind him. 

“Let me deal with this,” Koujaku said in a low voice, drawing his sword from his sheath. Every one of his breaths felt like it was weighted as he battled through the bloodlust rising within him. It was worse with Sei practically radiating quiet anxiety and fear behind him, but there was no way Koujaku was going to let a frail old woman or his frail young brother try and face off with Mink on their own. 

“Koujaku,” Tae-san started, but Koujaku shook his head. “Stay back, out of sight if possible. I’m not going to let him in.”

And with that, sword at the ready, he unlatched and threw open the door. 

Mink was there, on the doorstep, and he looked about ready to tear the house down with his bare hands. Seeing him, Koujaku’s face twisted into an instinctual snarl. 

“Get off our doorstep,” Koujaku spat, holding the sword defensively in front of him so that Mink couldn’t advance without being cut open. “Aoba isn’t here.”

“Who are you supposed to be?” Mink growled, feinting a little as if to test Koujaku’s steel, but Koujaku didn’t move. His hands were steady as a rock on the hilt of his sword, so let that bastard just _try_ to get past him.

“None of your business. Get out of here,” Koujaku said, but Mink didn’t move.

“Tell me where Aoba is.” 

“I don’t know,” Koujaku said bluntly. Mink gave him a look of utter contempt, then took a deep breath in through his nose. Nostrils flaring, face fixed with an impassable mask of disdain, he looked almost inhuman, monstrous. 

“You’re lying,” said Mink. “I can smell it.”

Restraining a shiver of disgust and adjusting his grip on the hilt of his sword, Koujaku said, “I don’t know where he is, asshole. Get away from me.”

Mink’s lip curled. “I bet Aoba’s pathetic excuse for a brother knows where he is. Come out, why don’t you? You know I can see you.”

Koujaku’s rage instantly spiked, and for a moment he saw red over his vision. Taking a deep, rushing breath, he feinted towards Mink with his sword, but Mink didn’t give any ground, remaining just two steps away from the open doorway. _Dammit_. 

“Don’t bother,” Mink said, looking at Koujaku with less respect than one would give a slug. “You don’t live here, you fool. The minute you’re gone, I’m coming back to find out where Aoba is. If you want to protect this weakling of yours, it would be better to just tell me. Then no one will get hurt.”

To Koujaku, it seriously sounded like Mink was asking for it. 

“ _You dare_ ,” Koujaku began, and then stopped with a strangled gasp. Sei’s hand was on his shoulder. 

“It’s okay, Koujaku-kun,” Sei said in his soft and mild voice. Before Koujaku could protest or move, he felt his sword arm somehow lowering of its own accord. Sei stepped out into the light beside him, and as he passed, Koujaku saw it.

Sei’s eyes were glowing gold. 

“Get the fuck away from me,” Sei said, and his voice was terrible, awful, multi-layered and cruel. Where Aoba’s voice compelled, Sei’s voice consumed. Even though Sei was directing his words to Mink, Koujaku still shuddered. 

As for Mink, he looked genuinely terrified. 

“My brother is on the mainland. Goodbye,” Sei said. Mink, eyes wide and staring, turned on his heel and practically fled from the Seragaki house, slamming the gate behind him. Koujaku stood frozen, sword hanging limply by his side, while Sei, his back to Koujaku, stood with his hands on his hips, staring down the driveway, but Mink did not return. 

It was Tae-san who broke the silence, gently laying one hand on Koujaku’s elbow, then another on Sei’s shoulder. 

“Let’s go back inside,” she said, voice unusually calm. Sei turned, automatically slumping back into his normal passive posture as his eyes turned back to black. For his part, Koujaku felt totally drained. He put his sword back into its sheath, and silently followed Tae-san and Sei back into the kitchen. The food was still steaming on the table, but Koujaku didn’t know if he could eat anything at all. This was only the second time he had ever seen Sei use Scrap, and he felt as if his head was still ringing with the words. 

“I’m really sorry,” Sei said, sounding distressed. Koujaku looked up, unsure why Sei was apologising. 

“For what? I’m the one who should be sorry, for not doing anything. If it hadn’t been for you, Mink would probably still be here,” Koujaku said, shaking his head as he sat down in his chair. Sei and Tae-san mimicked his actions, but no one moved to pick up their chopsticks. 

“I didn’t mean to be so… forceful,” Sei said, looking abashed. “Are you okay, Koujaku-kun?”

“I’m fine,” Koujaku said, shaking his head. 

“Here, eat, you’ll feel better,” Tae-san said, pushing a rice bowl towards him. Taking a small ball of rice, Koujaku found that he was able to chew and swallow it just fine, without any of the nausea he would have expected. Encouraged, he took another bite, and then another. Everyone sitting around the table noticeably relaxed, and Sei and Tae-san both seemed to take this as a cue that they should start eating too. 

“You boys sure showed him,” Tae-san said, and Sei smiled shyly. Koujaku still didn’t feel particularly proud of himself, especially after he had almost lost control. But at least Mink was gone, and unlikely to come back, after a performance like that. 

“I haven’t used Scrap in a really long time,” Sei murmured. “I can’t believe it worked that well.”

Koujaku, who had seen Aoba use Scrap on at least 20 different occasions, sometimes inadvertently, could totally believe it. Being in the middle of chewing, however, he didn't tell Sei as much. Tae-san gave Sei a look of fierce pride.

“Did you see his face?” Tae-san said, eyes glittering with amusement. “He won’t be coming back here in a hurry.”

“I hope not,” Sei said, and Koujaku shook his head.

“Ah, Sei, modest as usual,” he said smoothly, and Sei laughed. Koujaku smiled in reply. The food that had been set in front of him was disappearing very rapidly, but he didn’t pay much attention to it. In Tae-san’s house, there was always more where that came from. 

“You were so cool with your sword,” Sei said, passing Koujaku another helping of rice. “If I were Mink, I wouldn’t be able to stare down a guy like you at all.”

Again, not something Koujaku really wanted to take a compliment for, but for now, he accepted it. Not enough energy to argue. 

“I bet Aoba would have liked to see you,” Sei added, and then blushed. 

“What?” said Koujaku, and Tae-san rolled her eyes. 

“Koujaku, stop eating so fast,” she said. “You’ll give yourself indigestion.”

After that, the conversation moved to more trivial things. Perhaps it was the stress they had just been through, perhaps it was the relief, but Koujaku felt the atmosphere in the kitchen was lighter than it had been in months. He knew Tae-san wouldn’t have given up on her anger at Aoba that easily, but it didn’t make an appearance that night, for which he was grateful. The famous doughnuts were presented, and Koujaku managed to stuff three of them into his stomach, on top of the copious amounts of dinner he had already eaten. Sei ate four. 

Once the doughnuts were served and eaten, Sei and Koujaku excused themselves and went upstairs together. Koujaku wanted to go home and sleep as soon as possible, but he could tell that Sei had something to say to him. Indeed, as soon as the door to Sei’s room had closed behind them, Sei turned to him with a concerned expression on his face. 

“Koujaku-kun, are you okay?” he said. Koujaku considered for a moment, but he didn’t feel anything other than exhaustion and a little bit of anger-management-induced self loathing. Nothing unusual. 

“Don’t worry about me,” Koujaku said, smiling tiredly. 

Sei frowned. “Are you sure? You seemed awfully angry.”

“I’m fine,” Koujaku asserted, unwilling to tell Sei that “awfully angry” was part of his default hidden setting. 

Looking unconvinced, Sei said, “Koujaku-kun, you can tell me if something is wrong, you know. It won’t inconvenience me.”

 _I’m a pervert who's in love with your brother_ , Koujaku thought to himself, and gave Sei another manufactured smile. “I’m fine, really. Did you have something else you wanted to talk about?”

Sei frowned, and was silent for a moment. Finally, he said, “I think we shouldn’t tell Aoba about this.”

Sitting down heavily on the bed, Koujaku said, “He’s not even talking to me.”

“I know,” Sei sighed. “I don’t mean now, I mean ever. He probably already feels guilty enough about what happened before. He’s so far away I can’t really feel his emotions, but I know him.”

"Wait a minute," Koujaku said, frowning. "Shouldn't Aoba know that Mink is trying to find him?" 

Since the chair had a small mound of clothing on it, Sei sat down on top of his own desk, facing Koujaku. "I thought about that," he said, twining the ends of his long hair around his fingertips. "But there's no way Mink will be able to do it, right? All he knows is that Aoba's on the mainland. If he knew anything else, he wouldn't have come here. And the mainland is huge, it's not like Midorijima." It was so obvious that Sei had never actually left Midorijima, but Koujaku didn't say anything as Sei continued. "So I really don't think it's necessary. So please don't say anything?" 

Koujaku thought about it, but couldn't find another reason to argue with Sei. “Sure, you’re probably right,” Koujaku said at last. “But what makes you think that Aoba wants to talk to me, ever?”

Sei looked shocked by the question, and Koujaku supposed that for him, it had probably come straight out of left field. But this was something that Koujaku had been turning over in his mind for a while. Especially after today, when Aoba had contacted Sei but not bothered to even message Koujaku. Sure, he had asked Sei to pass on a message, but it wasn’t the same thing. Koujaku could remember a time in his own life when he had desperately avoided all human contact, and maybe Aoba was going through something like that now. But Koujaku couldn’t take that for granted, and in a moment of weakness, he had just gone and asked Sei about it. Too tired to feel regret now. Tomorrow. 

“Of course he wants to talk to you,” Sei said, voice so full of conviction that Koujaku, even pessimistically, had a hard time doubting it. “Aoba lo – Aoba really cares about you. It’s complicated.”

“It was a stupid question, I’m sorry,” Koujaku said, and Sei bit his lip. For a moment, Koujaku though he wasn’t going to say anything else, but then he opened his mouth again. 

“Aoba needs you, Koujaku-kun. He needs all of us to believe in him right now. Please don’t give up on him.”

Koujaku, give up on Aoba? He’d already tried that twice, once for his own benefit, and once for Aoba's. It hadn’t worked. 

“I won’t,” Koujaku promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kansuzume, Koujaku's Ensou username, is a poetic term for “a sparrow in winter”. The literal kanji translation is “cold sparrow”. Lol. A side note: Koujaku’s actual name means “red sparrow”. I’m fuckign
> 
> I made up the names of some Beni Shigure members, because I can’t use Kou and Hagima for everything. I named them after fruits. You’re welcome. I don’t headcanon that Rib is played only by men, even though the Rib players we see in canon are predominately male, so Momo is supposed to be female.
> 
> Poor Koujaku is so emo it hurts. I don’t know if I’m writing him properly. I usually base characters on my own inner knowledges and experiences, but I’m not a person who feels anger very deeply and for long. So you’ll have to excuse me for messing up Koujaku’s character. Plus, to my untrained ears, Koujaku’s Japanese seems to be very informal, possibly lower class (?) or accented in some way (?). I think he is the kind of person who would say “my bad” a lot (he says “warui, na” about like everything), but it’s weird to write him like that, because everyone in the translation speaks with the same awkward verbose semi-formality. If anyone has personal experience with either bad emotions or Japanese and feels they can speak a little better to how to write Koujaku, please don’t hesitate to correct me.
> 
> I know Sei doesn’t really have Scrap in canon, but in the game he interacts with Aoba directly even less than Virus and Trip do, and is like 99% dead by the time Aoba finally meets him. So I'm allowed to add stuff, k.
> 
> I realised that I could be making much better cliff-hangers for these chapters, but I bet you guys prefer knowing that Koujaku and Mink aren’t going to kill each other before you go to sleep at night, right?
> 
> [I made up rules for Ribsteez](http://voxiferous.tumblr.com/post/150946550562/for-my-ongoing-kouao-fanfic-ive-made-up-some). They're too long to fit in these authors' notes.
> 
> Questions & comments always welcome!


	11. June

The next few days at Clear’s house were spent mostly in solitude, as Clear worked for most of the day at a marine biology research lab near the coast, and rescuing Aoba had cost him two vacation days (oops). Aoba temporarily set up his computer next to the bed in this room, with the bedside table for his monitor and his lap for the keyboard. After a bunch of twiddling around with the midi controller, which was a lot less convenient than the full keyboard, Aoba managed to pull together a thank-you song for Mizuki. There was also that one he had been making for Koujaku right before – well. Aoba had closed the file for that one the day that he got there, telling himself there was no way he could work on it without the keyboard anyway. As for the keyboard itself, Aoba had managed to find a guy who lived within the same prefecture and was willing to repair it. The proximity was great because it meant Aoba had to pay less for shipping, so he sent it off with the hopes that it would be back within the month. 

Apart from his musical activities, Aoba explored the neighbourhood – after asking Clear’s permission and realising he didn’t need it – went into town, and did a fair amount of cooking. That was never an activity he had found particularly fun, but it was comforting and productive, so why not. The kitchen was fairly well stocked, and most of the cooking utensils seemed to be frequently used and in good order, unlike some parts of the rest of the house. The first time Aoba tried using the shower, the knob actually came off in his hand, but Clear just waltzed in and stuck it back on as if nothing had happened. 

In the afternoons, Clear would go out to the garden shed and clean things out of there, things that were dusty and dirty and generally needed Aoba to wash them with the hose behind the house. The shed itself sat between the house and a small patch of forest, since Clear’s house was a twenty minute drive from town. In the evenings, Aoba and Clear would eat together, and afterwards retreat to their separate corners of the house. It was fun living with a friend, but Aoba still felt a little awkward around Clear, who did some decidedly weird things sometimes. As for Noiz, Aoba had a long conversation with him explaining how the escape had been effected and thanking him for helping organise it. 

And so the summer began. 

\---

“Okay, listen, it’s only missing ten keys. Okay, eleven, I counted. You don’t need to re-wire the entire keyboard,” Aoba growled into his Coil. The line crackled with static, making the technician’s exceedingly bored answer hard to hear. Still, Aoba didn’t have to understand the whole thing to know that this guy was trying to rip him off. Aoba would have fixed it himself, if only he had access to the parts.

“I have to rewire all the keys because they are all connected, do you understand? It will only cost you 50,000 yen.”

“What?” Aoba yelped. “No, just patch it up or something, okay? I don’t have that kind of money.” Guiltily, he glanced over his shoulder, hoping that Clear hadn’t heard his voice coming through the open doorway of the garden shed. It wasn’t very polite to talk about his money troubles in front of his host. But as there was still a lot of clattering and clanging of metal on metal coming from inside the shed, Aoba figured Clear probably hadn’t heard him.

What am I going to do? Aoba thought, massaging his forehead in exasperation. This guy was really giving him a headache. Damn, if only he hadn’t done the stupid thing and shipped the keyboard off to the first reputable-sounding guy who said he could fix it. He should have kept it on hand until he got a price estimate. At this rate, the shipping alone would be twice the real cost of the repairs.

“You seem like a good customer, sir, but I can’t justify anything less than 45,000 yen, I really can’t.”

Ugh… Aoba considered just hanging up, asking them to send the keyboard back, and calling Haga-san to get keys off that old Axiom hanging around in the back. Shit, Haga-san. Out of respect for his long-time boss, Aoba had sent in a notice of resignation by email two days ago, so now it would probably be awkward to talk to him. Besides, Aoba’s keyboard was supposed to be a performance keyboard, not that he had performed anywhere with it yet – but he couldn’t have it looking like a Frankenstein patchwork. 

Well, there was one solution… one Aoba had been trying to avoid. The pressure on his temples increased, and Aoba let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Fine,” he said aloud, without really meaning to. 

“You’ll pay the full price then?” the technician said, and Aoba rolled his eyes. Yeah right. 

“No,” Aoba said, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. It had been such a long time…

The thundercloud hovering at the edge of Aoba’s temples rolled back, lifting the pressure of the headache and freeing Aoba’s mind like a clean wind had blown through it. When Aoba opened his eyes again, his irises were glowing gold. Scrap.

“I can tell you’re a craftsman,” Aoba said, strategizing his opener to maximise warm and fuzzy feelings on the other end of the line. His voice was warm and inviting, the compelling power of it masked with a slick coating of honey. For a moment, the line was silent, save for the background hum of static. 

“Isn’t that so?” Aoba added, because sometimes people just forgot to remember when Aoba used his voice on them. 

“Yeah, so, what about it, buddy?” came the reply. Okay, so maybe Aoba was a little rusty – or maybe this guy was stubborn, or maybe the line was just that bad. 

“Well here’s what I’m thinking,” Aoba said, liquid eyes shining in a way that would make anyone looking at them feel like they had to sit down. Of course, it was lost on the tech at the other end of the line. “A craftsman such as yourself has to know the most efficient way to repair anything, including this keyboard. I bet that if you think about it really hard, you can come up with a way that’s cheaper and neater. It will be like art.”

“Like art,” the guy said reluctantly, only half convinced. Aoba sighed like a delicate damsel about to swoon into the arms of a big strong keyboard technician. There was real annoyance in it, of course, but the tech didn’t need to know that. Time for Aoba to bust out the innuendos. 

“I would be ever so pleased if you could render me that service,” Aoba said, rolling his eyes in a lovely flash of gold. Also lost on tech guy. There was a long silence, in which Aoba could hear both the figurative gears rolling in tech guy’s head, and something literally rolling across the floor inside the shed. He glanced over his shoulder in time to see Clear grab a glass Coke bottle off the stoop just before it could roll into the bushes. Sheepishly, Clear grinned, mimed “running away” at the bottle with his fingers, and retreated back inside. Aoba seriously hoped that Clear hadn’t hoped that comment about servicing either. 

“I suppose, I could consider servicing you,” tech guy said. Finally they were getting somewhere, although Aoba was starting to feel a little guilty about it. 

“So I think, if you find a better way to fix the keyboard, we should set the price at 10,000 yen, and if you do a good job, I’ll give you a bonus,” Aoba said, thinking that this guy would get 1,000 more yen out of him at most, after giving him the run around for twenty solid minutes and trying to charge him five times what the job was actually worth. 

“A bonus?”

With that tone of voice, Aoba wouldn’t have been surprised if tech guy was drooling into his receiver. “Yes, a bonus. Now do we have an agreement?” Aoba pushed.

“Yes,” tech guy breathed. 

“Great,” Aoba said. “I’ll call again tomorrow to check up and see how things are doing. Bye!”

“Wait –” the guy started to say, but Aoba hung up anyway. 

Thank goodness that was over with. Slowly, Aoba’s eyes returned to their normal colour, but pleasantly, his headache didn’t come back. Of course not; using Scrap voluntarily always negated Aoba’s headaches, and sometimes prevented them in the first place. But this was the first time Aoba had voluntarily used Scrap in about a year, not counting when it had been forced out of him in stressful situations. It felt good, like flexing a muscle that had gotten a little stiff. Still, Aoba felt uneasy. He wasn’t supposed to use Scrap if he could help it. 

Aoba stood, rationalising to himself that there was no way to force Scrap to work (even though it had a 99% success rate), and that there would probably be no negative consequences for the tech guy. Even though he would be losing money, it wasn’t like he had earnt it in the first place. Yeah, whatever, time to get back to work. Aoba shoved his thoughts aside and went back into the shed.

Once inside, Aoba found Clear hard at work putting glass bottles into cardboard boxes. When they had first started cleaning out the shed, it had been absolutely full of glass bottles – on every available surface had been bottles of different sizes, shapes, and colours, with barely enough room for a cluttered workbench, a few freestanding tools, and a couple of cabinets and shelves. Over the past few days, Clear had moved all of the tools into the closet in the house. Now it was a matter of packing up the bottles and cleaning the place up. Even with his keyboard out of commission for a while, Aoba was really looking forward to the day he could move his computer out here.

“Ao-san, were you able to resolve the problem with your keyboard?” Clear said, as Aoba grabbed a new cardboard box and some old newspapers to start packing the bottles. Clear wanted to drive all of them in batches on his motorcycle to the recycling plant one town over, so they had to be careful to pack the bottles in such a way that they were unlikely to break on the journey over. 

“I guess,” Aoba said, separating a couple of sheets of newspaper to stuff into the corners of the box. “I think that guy just wants my money.”

“That’s so sad. He should have some dedication to his craft,” Clear said, and Aoba laughed. 

“That’s what I said,” Aoba said, as Clear reached for the packing tape. “He still wanted to charge me 45,000 yen, though.”

Clear gasped, nearly dropping the tape. “That’s so much money!”

“I know, but I got him to bring it down to 10,000,” Aoba said, as Clear recovered and started taping the box shut. 

“That’s still so much,” Clear said, shaking his head. “Where are you going to get it from?”

That was a good question. Aoba had a fair amount in the bank – not enough to pay rent for more than a year, nor enough to be able to afford a random, 45,000 yen expenditure. But as for the 10,000 yen… 

“I got it from the donation box on my Ensou account,” Aoba said, marvelling to himself at the fact that strangers on the internet were effectively paying for him to refurbish his keyboard. “I have just enough to cover it.”

“Oh, I put money in there,” Clear said breezily, and Aoba’s stomach clenched.

“What? Why?”

The idea that Noiz could have been the one to put the rest of the money in there suddenly occurred to Aoba, and he gritted his teeth, sincerely hoping that wasn’t the case. He already owed both Noiz and Clear enough without them randomly giving him money. 

“Oh it was just 1,000 yen,” Clear said, lifting the now-full box of bottles and depositing it outside the shed. Aoba felt like such a weakling beside Clear, who had at some point lifted the entire workbench like it was nothing because a stray bottle had rolled underneath it. Not bad for a guy whose day job was working at a marine biology research lab. 

“Thank you,” Aoba said, because his Granny had taught him manners, after all. He couldn’t help but want to pay Clear back somehow, which reminded him – he had to ask Clear about Bluejay-related keychain sales. 

“You’re welcome,” Clear said, standing in the doorway and surveying the room. “And look! We’re almost done with the bottles. I’m going to go get some cleaning supplies. Be right back!”

“See you,” Aoba said, but Clear had gone, leaving Aoba on the floor of the dingy shed, wrapping up his last ten bottles. As he shook the dust off the base of one of them, he thought to himself that he might want to rig a new lighting system for the room, as well as everything else. The phone Clear had promised him wasn’t actually in the shed, but they had found the jack at least. 

After finishing up with the box of bottles, Aoba lugged it outside with the other one, then went back into the shed and started idly opening cabinets to make sure they were empty. This space was definitely big enough for him, bigger than both Mink’s closet and Clear’s closet – and even the space he’d had in his room back home. Yes, this should do nicel-

Aoba’s interior monologue cut off abruptly as he heard, with straining ears, a glorious, beautiful sound. It was muffled through the walls of the shed, but it sounded like a voice – like someone was singing – 

Rushing to the doorway, Aoba saw Clear coming down the path from the back door of the house to the garden shed. And it was Clear who was singing, a beautiful, glorious melody that took Aoba’s breath right out of his chest. 

When Clear saw that Aoba was staring at him from the doorway of the shed, he immediately stopped singing. 

“Everything alright, Ao-san?” Clear said, a little nervously, Aoba thought. Did Clear not like it when people heard him sing? Because Aoba could see himself paying real money to hear him do it again. 

“Just fine,” Aoba said. “What was that you were singing?”

It was definitely not Aoba’s imagination. The set of Clear’s shoulders as he set a bucket of soapy water and a basket of cleaning supplies down on top of one of the boxes in front of the door was decidedly tense. 

“Just something I made up,” Clear said shyly. 

“Something you made up?” Aoba spluttered, wishing he could just make up tunes like that. People said he had an appealing voice, but people had obviously never heard Clear before. “It was amazing.”

Clear blushed. “You think it was amazing? Really?”

“Yeah, it was beautiful. Will you sing it again?” Aoba said, and Clear’s blush deepened.

“You’re sure? You really want to hear it?”

When Aoba nodded in the affirmative, Clear leaned against the front wall of the shed, obviously too shy to look Aoba in the face. Then he opened his mouth and began to sing again.

[ ](http://dmmd.wikia.com/wiki/Jellyfish_Song)

The words to Clear’s song were simple, almost childish, but his voice was so clear and sweet that he could have been singing the contents of a grocery receipt and Aoba would have been enraptured. In a way, the simplicity of the song was part of what made it appealing. If Aoba had had Cubase opened in front of him, he would have been recording the melody. When Clear finished singing, a celestial stillness hung over the yard, and the song echoed in Aoba’s ears. 

“Can I record you singing that?” Aoba said, and Clear turned towards him, a shy but joyous smile blossoming on his face. 

“It would be an honour,” Clear said. Taking a sponge from his basket of supplies like nothing had just happened, Clear went past Aoba, into the shed, and started cleaning off the shed’s one window. Aoba just stood there, the gears in his mind slowly starting to turn. 

“Ao-san?” Clear said, and Aoba shook himself back to attention. 

“Yes,” Aoba said, going back to one of the closets he had opened earlier. “Did you know this closet has a lot of little tiny bottles in it?”

“Oh, um…” Clear said sheepishly. “Do you need that cabinet? I was hoping that perhaps we might keep those.”

Keep them? What for?

“Sure,” Aoba said, closing the cabinet and picking up a sponge. “If it’s important to you…”

“I like them. They’re beautiful,” Clear said, as Aoba started scrubbing the workbench. 

“Did your grandpa collect them?” Aoba asked, hoping Clear would give him the whole story. To Aoba, Clear’s interest in bottles was a little weird, but Clear was just a weird guy overall. Not that that was a bad thing.

“Yes, he collected them for me. I like things that are shiny and clear and pretty. Things that reflect light, you know. They remind me of jellyfish. There are lots more in my room, but my grandpa was saving these ones in particular to make things out of,” Clear explained. “He already made me a sun-catcher. It’s upstairs. Oh, wait a minute.” 

Putting down his sponge, Clear opened the bottle cabinet again, and pulled out a strange object, which clinked softly as he lifted it. Aoba couldn’t quite discern what it was until Clear was holding it up to the light from the newly scrubbed patch of window. 

It appeared to be a windchime, made up of the tiniest bottles Aoba had ever seen. Each bottle had been painted a different colour, but with a translucent paint so that light shone through them and cast beams of coloured light on the dusty floor of the shed. The whole thing was held together with lengths of jewel-coloured ribbon, attached to a polished wooden disk. Clearly, whoever had made this had taken great care in their craft, simple and rustic as it was. 

“Did your grandpa make that too?” Aoba said, as Clear gazed at it fondly. 

“Yes,” Clear said softly. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Aoba nodded. “It’s a shame it is always in that closet.”

“I know,” Clear said, setting it delicately back on the shelf where it had come from. “Wait, I know! Why don’t we put it up in here after we’ve finished cleaning?”

“If you don’t have anywhere else to put it, yes please,” Aoba said, as Clear went back to cleaning the window. Something about that gentle chiming had struck a chord inside of him, the way Clear’s singing had done earlier. Aoba wondered if there was somehow a way to combine the two. 

“Of course,” Clear said. 

To Aoba’s disgust, a large spider suddenly emerged from the gap between the workbench and the wall, then ran right over his hand. Capturing it distracted both of them for a moment, and then the wind-chime moment had passed. But Aoba remembered to bring up the idea of putting Clear’s drawings on things to sell, which Clear agreed to without hesitation. The problem with Clear, Aoba reflected as he tried to talk Clear into accepting a bigger percentage of sales than 15%, was that he was so damn nice. He was like Sei, giving kindness freely and without a thought for himself. If Aoba lived here for too long, he could really get accustomed to it, and then where would he be?

In the end, Aoba got Clear to agree to take 40% of the profits, even though he wanted it to be more 50/50. By that time, the windows, walls, and workbench were all clean, leaving the tops of cabinets to be dusted and the floor to be mopped. Clear had strung up the glass bottle mobile in front of the window, and little rainbow lights spangled the unfortunately dusty ground. Aoba was impatient to record the jellyfish song, but since Clear wasn’t likely to go mute any time soon, Aoba forced himself to be calm and do his best cleaning up the place.

By the evening, the shed was gleaming from bottom to top. Clear assured Aoba he could just bring a chair out from the kitchen, and the shed was his. Both exhausted, they carried the cleaning supplies back inside and left them in the kitchen while Clear went to shower. Aoba stayed sitting at the kitchen, unwilling to get the dirt from his clothing all over his room.

Just then, his Coil chimed.

 **RuffRabbit:** hey I know you two are there  
**SlyBlue:** Hey what’s up. Clear is in the shower.  
**RuffRabbit:** ok  
**RuffRabbit:** in that case, I have a question for you  
**SlyBlue:** Yeah what’s up.  
**RuffRabbit:** you know how Cockatiel turned out to be a real guy who was kinda like the way you described him in your story? and Pip is a dog Allmate and not a real human baby, apparently  
**SlyBlue:** That's what they always were but yeah?

Although Aoba had no idea where Noiz was going with this, but he figured he probably wouldn’t like it.

 **RuffRabbit:** so I’ve been thinking, is Redbird real or what

Aoba panicked.

 **SlyBlue:** Why do you care?  
**RuffRabbit:** ok, I figured you would be defensive about it, but do us both a favour and calm down

Aoba swallowed heavily. How dare Noiz ask about – but it was a natural question. But it was none of his business – but then again, they were friends. What should he say?

 **RuffRabbit:** just answer the question. it won’t kill you  
**SlyBlue:** Yeah he’s real.  
**RuffRabbit:** so are you going to ask him out  
**SlyBlue:** No, of course not!  
**RuffRabbit:** why not? also, try calming down harder

Fuck you, Noiz.

 **SlyBlue:** Well he lives on Midorijima for starters.  
**RuffRabbit:** that is the weakest excuse I’ve ever heard  
**SlyBlue:** I just got out of a seven month relationship are you just that desperate for me to make him my rebound?  
**RuffRabbit:** you’ll notice I never said “are you going to ask him out right this minute?” I just said, “are you going to ask him out?”  
**SlyBlue:** You mean like in the future?  
**RuffRabbit:** yes that is literally what I just said  
**SlyBlue:** I don’t know and I’m not going to think about it.  
**RuffRabbit:** why not  
**SlyBlue:** Because I don’t want to is why.  
**RuffRabbit:** you sound like a ten year old

Although Aoba knew he was acting childish about this, it was really hard not to. Besides, shouldn’t he be allowed a grace period between allowing himself to break his own heart and whatever dating was out there for him in the future? 

Before Aoba could snap back at Noiz, his Coil chimed with a reply.

 **RuffRabbit:** ok we’re just going to continue this conversation some other time, like when you’ve grown up a little  
**RuffRabbit:** don’t misunderstand me, you have the right to not want to talk about it right now  
**SlyBlue:** Thanks so much oh gracious Rabbit.  
**RuffRabbit:** shut up, I’m not done  
**RuffRabbit:** oh, forget it. sorry I asked, I guess  
**RuffRabbit:** tell me about your boring life instead, if it’ll make you feel better

Slowly, Aoba’s raised hackles went down. Noiz meant well, he was just a little grating sometimes, he reasoned. He was about to type out a reply to Noiz when Clear came into the kitchen, towel around his shoulders but otherwise fully dressed – including his Coil on his wrist.

“The shower is free, Ao-san,” Clear said. “Also, I wonder why RuffRabbit-san decided to hold that conversation in the group chat?”

“In the group chat?” Aoba gasped, checking to see if what Clear said was true – it was. Aoba groaned. “So you read that? Do you think Mizuki read it?”

 **SlyBlue:** Why did you put this in the group chat you asshole?!  
**RuffRabbit:** oh shit

“I don’t know!” Clear said, cocking his head to one side so that all the water dripped onto the towel on his right shoulder. Aoba couldn’t tell if Clear understood that Aoba was upset, and why. If Aoba hadn’t been so tired from all that cleaning, he would have noticed the group chat thing earlier. Honestly, he didn’t mind that Clear had also read it, because Clear was way too nice and polite to ask him about what Noiz had said. But now that Mizuki was a part of these chats, Aoba had to be so careful not to let slip any information about himself on there in case it got back to someone else. Or in case Mizuki himself decided to give Aoba a hard time for it later. 

“Mizuki-san is very kind,” Clear said. “I don’t think he will do anything bad because of this conversation. I already guessed that Redbird was a real person, so perhaps he did too.”

“Clear, you can’t tell Mizuki anything about me, okay?” Aoba said, wondering for the first time if Clear and Mizuki had talked about him the night that Clear had visited Mizuki. Probably. But at the time, neither of them had known who SlyBlue was or what he looked like, so there were low odds that Clear had told Mizuki anything he shouldn’t have. 

Looking still more confused, Clear said, “Why?”

“I actually know him,” Aoba admitted. “I mean, in real life, he’s my friend. He doesn’t know that I have an Ensou account or anything.”

“You don’t want to share your beautiful music with him?” Clear asked. Meanwhile, Aoba’s Coil was fairly blowing up with little pinging noises, probably Noiz apologising and/or pretending like he hadn’t done anything wrong. Aoba was still pretty ticked off at him, but he didn’t plan to stay mad forever, so he was just going to keep ignoring those and make Noiz sweat a little. 

Shrugging, Aoba said, “He can listen to it as much as he wants online, right? So why does it matter?”

“He’s such a nice friend, though. He offered to come with me to help clean out your apartment, but he doesn’t have his own car so we decided it would be dangerous for him if we all had to leave very fast. I had to argue with him for a long time, because he really wanted to help you. So you see, I don’t think it would hurt if you mentioned to him that you are SlyBlue,” Clear said, and Aoba’s jaw nearly hit the floor. Mizuki… coming to help him leave Mink’s apartment… Aoba thought that if that had really happened, he might have just hidden in the bathroom and never come out. Ren would have had to answer the door and tell them both that Aoba wasn’t home and had changed his mind about everything. Thank god they had all dodged that particular bullet. 

“It’s probably not rational, but please don’t say anything to him,” Aoba said, managing to find his voice again.

“Okay,” Clear said, not looking particularly convinced. 

“I mean it,” Aoba said, and Clear nodded. 

“Of course I respect your decision, Ao-san,” he said, and Aoba felt a little better. 

“I’m going to go have a shower now. Please tell Noiz he can stop freaking out,” Aoba said. 

Clear nodded again. “Of course,” he said. As Aoba escaped the kitchen to peel off his gross clothing and make himself presentable again, he reflected that his life was a lot more complicated now than he ever would have expected it to be. And although being SlyBlue was a very big part of it, a bigger part of it was, well, Koujaku. Aoba couldn’t help but think about what Noiz had said. Would he ever ask Koujaku out, or not? There was no reason to think Koujaku would even be interested in him. Koujaku was straight as a straight arrow and had invested about 80% of his spare time in proving it. Love was a hard, hard thing, and Aoba was so tired of it being this hard. 

As soon as the hot water began coursing soothingly over Aoba’s body, he put his thoughts in the clouds and tried to just be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's this chapter length? It feels a little long to me, but what do I know.  
> also 450$ = ~50,000 JPY  
> In canon, Clear's house is surrounded by piles of junk. In this AU, clearly that is not the case.
> 
> Okay, so I found something I really, really want to share with all of you. It's called the Aoba cake beatmap.  
> Allow me to explain:  
> I don't know if you have heard of the [Aoba](http://pugfarts.tumblr.com/post/82974480433/i-made-an-aoba-cake-for-my-wifes-birthday) [cake](http://pugfarts.tumblr.com/tagged/aoba-cake) which [became](https://66.media.tumblr.com/dd9b5578c15020d3b1e46b2915ced6bc/tumblr_inline_n9pfdxgjHo1rjrkth.jpg) [a](http://s1.narvii.com/image/q5fxqvxnb5mpvdhejqz3atrxdb5p46xj_hq.jpg) [freakin'](https://66.media.tumblr.com/028d7969f16329767d0d1a262994d7f1/tumblr_inline_ndielpMzx81skta1x.jpg) [meme](https://66.media.tumblr.com/5a23753b790ed5126bcdd13c52764cf3/tumblr_inline_n9pfekfyJ11rjrkth.jpg), but someone make a [HILARIOUS video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3I2y6rmg6Ro) of it. And then someone else who plays the game [osu!](http://osu.ppy.sh/) decided to make a [beatmap](http://osu.ppy.sh/s/422856) of it. And I found the beatmap and then I lost my shit.  
> The actual map itself isn’t very good (I suggest playing catch the fruits), but the video. The video.  
> TL;DR: Wanna be entertained? Watch that video. 
> 
> I noticed that like nobody seems to have read the chapter I just posted on Monday. You know... if you want to keep up with when new chapters are released... you can always subscribe.......... (Actually, I'm curious. Are you all just too busy to read during the week? Are you all in high school or college? Tell me! :3)
> 
> To be honest with you all, I feel like this fic needs a LOT of editing. But people seem to like it, so I want to keep going for as long as possible until I run out of steam. I know how it's going to end. Current projected word count is 80,000~, which means we're about in the middle of it? Hopefully I can maintain a baseline of quality until the end.
> 
> Questions/comments/feedback always welcome!


	12. Missed Him

Bringing a lovely lady to Mizuki’s bar for the evening had been a mistake, Koujaku realised sometime around the tenth time Mizuki looped the same song and his date, whose name was Etsuko sighed in impatience. Not that Koujaku minded hearing Bluejay’s music over and over, but atmosphere was important, and apparently this atmosphere didn’t cut it for Etsuko. It was too bad – right away Koujaku had spotted the small tattoo on Etsuko’s wrist and thought that Mizuki’s bar would be a good place to take her – just not tonight, which meant this date would be ultimately unsuccessful. Ah, well.

At some point, Koujaku managed to catch Mizuki’s eye, but perhaps his hand motions weren’t enough to convey “please change the song”, or perhaps Mizuki just loved this track that much. Either way, Koujaku was pretty annoyed with him by the time Etsuko finally gave up and said her polite goodbyes. Okay, so maybe Koujaku could have just taken her to another bar. But tonight he just wasn’t feeling it… and maybe hadn’t been feeling it for a long time. Koujaku had dated a lot of women since Aoba left, but he hadn’t taken a single one of them to bed. 

As Koujaku was morosely reflecting about this, Mizuki came up beside him and plopped onto the vacant stool formerly occupied by Etsuko. Koujaku could tell by Mizuki’s excited demeanour that he had some kind of news to share with him. 

“Koujaku, is she gone?” Mizuki said, looking not the least bit sorry about it. There was something in Mizuki's attitude that Koujaku found unbearably irksome, so he just looked away and downed part of his sake.

“Yeah, thanks,” Koujaku said bitterly, swirling the cup around and watching a whirlpool form inside it. 

Frowning, Mizuki looked from the cup back to Koujaku’s face. “What’s eating you?”

Koujaku heaved a monumental sigh. _Pull it together_ , he thought to himself sternly. It wasn’t Mizuki’s fault that Koujaku was like this. It was Mizuki's fault that Koujaku didn't have a date anymore, but the outcome would have been the same anyway, so...

“Sorry, it’s been a long day,” Koujaku said, setting the glass down and turning towards Mizuki with an apologetic smile. “What’s up?”

“Oh,” Mizuki said, looking taken aback. But his good mood quickly reasserted itself, concern disappearing once again into that anticipatory grin. “You know this song, Koujaku?”

But of course. 

“It’s Bluejay’s newest song, Hospitality. He posted it two days ago,” Koujaku said, gesturing at the radio with one hand. Mizuki’s jaw dropped. 

“Koujaku, I had no idea you listened to Sly Blue’s music,” he said. “I thought you hated it!”

Hated it? The very concept of hating Bluejay’s music was so hard for Koujaku to grasp that it took him a few moments to realise that Mizuki _didn’t know_. He didn’t know how Koujaku had woken up in the middle of the night and heard Bluejay speaking to him through a song. He didn’t know how Fighting! made Koujaku feel like maybe he could do anything. He didn’t know how every time Koujaku put on Redbird’s Vision, he saw Aoba’s face. Of course it made no sense to him. 

“Um, no,” Koujaku said, trying to act natural but feeling like he was failing. “I think he’s – I think he’s very good, actually.”

“A-ha!” Mizuki exclaimed, jabbing Koujaku in the chest with one finger. “You care, and that’s what matters. Listen, do you want know something cool about this song?” 

At this point, it seemed like Mizuki could barely contain his excitement, and neither could Koujaku. What could Mizuki possibly know about this song that Koujaku didn’t? The two of them leant towards each other conspiratorially, Koujaku tapping his fingers against the bar and Mizuki fairly vibrating with excitement. 

“What is it?” Koujaku said. 

“This song,” Mizuki said, pausing for dramatic effect, “was written for _me_.”

[](https://youtu.be/WDl_V-3RywY)

_This song is about a friend of Bluejay’s, a kindly swallow who invited Bluejay and Pip to stay in his nest if Bluejay ever leaves his cage. Swallow lives in a very popular tree, which many birds visit to catch up on the news and have a good time. (For @mizu-hi)_

Never ever, in all the years Koujaku had known him, had Mizuki ever lied to his face, so it didn’t evengh occur to him that Mizuki could be exaggerating. Starting up, Koujaku grabbed the front of Mizuki’s shirt. “You know Bluejay? You’ve met him? Does he live on Midorijima?”

“Woah, woah!” Mizuki said in surprise, putting his hands up playfully. “Okay, calm down. I had no idea you were this much of a fan. Listen, I’m not supposed to tell anyone this, but you’re a totally trustworthy guy. I have this crazy story to tell you," Mizuki said, giving Koujaku a gentle push.

“But do you know Bluejay?” Koujaku persisted, leaning in to Mizuki so eagerly he was nearly falling off of his seat.

“Umm… well, not really. I’ve talked with him a couple of times online,” Mizuki said. “Over chat, not just messaging.”

Koujaku sat back, slightly disappointed. It sounded like Mizuki didn’t know anything after all – but how had he gotten a song written for himself? And what was with the secrecy?

“We should go somewhere more private, if you’re not supposed to talk about it,” Koujaku said, and Mizuki grinned. 

“Yeah, come on, let’s go out the back,” he said. When Koujaku went to pick up his half-finished sake, Mizuki shook his head. “Just leave that here, I’ll give you another one on the house if you want it.” 

Abandoning his cup without a second glance, Koujaku followed Mizuki out of the crowded, noisy bar, into the quiet parking lot at the back. There were cigarette butts scattered all around the doorway, but Koujaku didn’t feel the slightest bit in the mood for a smoke. Instead, his nerves were all hoped up as if he were about to go into some kind of fight. It took him a moment to realise what he was feeling with jealousy. _Mizuki knows Bluejay._ He, Koujaku, had counted himself lucky to get one two-line reply to a single comment, and Mizuki had a song written for him? How?

The air in the tiny car park was humid and stale. There were only two cars there, because the lot was used more by employees than by customers, and Mizuki didn't have a car himself. The ever-present wall of Platinum Jail loomed over the horizon, darkening the sky even though it wasn't that late in the evening. Fumes of cooling tarmac and exhaust assaulting his nose, Koujaku waited impatiently as Mizuki kicked the door closed and put in a doorstop so it couldn’t be opened from the inside without a warning. 

“So?” Koujaku couldn’t help but say, as Mizuki leaned up against the wall and looked over at him with another Cheshire-cat kind of grin. 

“I let a friend of Bluejay stay over at my place for the night. That’s the whole story in a nutshell,” Mizuki said. 

“No it’s not,” Koujaku said through gritted teeth. “Tell me the details.”

Mizuki raised his eyebrows. “Wow, you are really upset. I kinda feel bad for not letting you in on it while everything was happening.”

Koujaku felt like he was going to take his sword out and skewer Mizuki to the wall if he didn’t stop bragging and start explaining. Seeing this in Koujaku’s face, Mizuki raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. 

“I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you. Just promise you won’t repeat it to anyone, okay? I got threatened with some scary punishments for even mentioning it to you,” Mizuki said, like Koujaku had anyone else to tell. 

“I promise,” Koujaku said impatiently. 

“Thanks, man,” Mizuki said. “Okay, a couple of weeks ago I was online and I got this message from some guy on Ensou called RuffRabbit. You know him?”

Koujaku shook his head. 

“Well, he’s one of Bluejay’s friends. Him and another guy called Clear. They invited me to this group chat with Bluejay because I am a trustworthy fan who lives on Midorijima. It’s on my profile. Anyway, you know that Bluejay writes stories about his characters Cockatiel and Redbird to go with his songs?”

Koujaku nodded again, wondering if Mizuki had left out Pip on purpose, because he had practically memorised the entire Bluejay canon at this point. 

“Right, well, it turns out all of those characters are based on real people. Cockatiel and Redbird are real.”

Suddenly stiffening, Koujaku nodded. A light breeze stirred the cigarette butts underfoot, sweeping Koujaku’s bangs lower across his face. “ _It gives me hope to think there is a chance that Bluejay and Redbird could be together, too._ ” So this was the explanation. Bluejay the artist was interested in a real guy called Redbird. For a moment, Koujaku felt a stupid little pang of loss. It wasn’t like he had ever been interested in Bluejay – not like that. That would be impossible, when Aoba existed. Maybe it was loss on behalf of Bluejay, who was with Cockatiel while Redbird pined. Maybe it was on behalf of Redbird, who, like Koujaku, had the obstacle of another man between him and his beloved. 

Then the second realisation hit – Cockatiel was also real. Just like Mink. Koujaku clenched his fists. 

“Are you telling me that Bluejay has been living with some asshole like Cockatiel?” Koujaku said. To his surprise, Mizuki only grinned in response. 

“ _Was_ living with Cockatiel, yes. The reason he wanted to talk to me is because he was trying to get off of Midorijima and go back to the mainland to get away from him. But he couldn’t do it on his own because Cockatiel was always around, so Clear came from the mainland to come get him. Clear needed a place to stay overnight, so I let him crash at my place. And that’s the story,” Mizuki finished triumphantly. 

“So you never met Bluejay,” Koujaku said thoughtfully. “But his friend – Clear. What was he like?”

“Oh, he was weird,” Mizuki said, laughing. “He had this white hair, so I think he must be an albino. But he was very polite and quiet, kinda like Sei-san. He was very enthusiastic about helping Bluejay, though. You know, I almost went with him to help Bluejay get out of his apartment, but he convinced me not to go. And I had work that day. It was pretty last minute, so I couldn’t take off on short notice.”

Looking genuinely regretful, Mizuki scuffed one of his boots against the dirty pavement. Koujaku imagined that he felt he’d missed out by not going to help Bluejay in person, but it sounded like it would have been hard for him to justify it without sounding like he was doing it just so he could meet a celebrity. 

“I wonder if Bluejay and Clear will get together,” Mizuki pondered aloud, and Koujaku started. 

“Not unless Clear is Redbird,” Koujaku said, wondering how Mizuki could possibly overlook him, since that was the only other thing Bluejay was writing about these days. 

“He didn’t seem like it,” Mizuki said. “But you know, it doesn’t say on Ensou that Bluejay actually likes Redbird. It just says that Redbird likes Bluejay. It could be that Redbird is actually someone annoying to him.”

“What?” Koujaku said, shocked. “Why would he dedicate all those songs to him if he didn’t care about him?”

It was so strange to Koujaku how these things were so obvious to him when Mizuki didn’t see them at all. Of course the natural mate for Bluejay was Redbird.

“I don’t know. I’m just saying,” Mizuki said, shrugging.

Koujaku paused. There was something else that he wanted to ask Mizuki, especially now that he knew that Mizuki considered himself Bluejay’s friend. This question was treading into very dangerous, territory, however. Koujaku really didn’t want to give Mizuki the wrong impression. 

“Koujaku?” Mizuki said, when Koujaku didn’t say anything for a long, long moment. Heaving a sigh, Koujaku ran his fingers through his bangs, but didn’t say anything. Faintly, he could hear the chatter from inside the club and the cars going past on the road nearby. In the distance, somebody honked. Silently, Koujaku struggled with himself, forcing the words to his lips. For a moment, he would open his mouth as if to speak, but then close it again, unable to make a sound. It was hard. Koujaku clenched his fists. 

Finally, Koujaku forced himself to choke out, “Does it bother you that Bluejay is gay?”

Though he was afraid of what he would find, Koujaku glanced over at Mizuki and saw him frowning. Better than outright disgust, Koujaku supposed, fixing his gaze forwards again.

“Koujaku, I’m surprised at you. I thought, since Aoba was your friend…” Mizuki trailed off. Folding his arms, he looked away from Koujaku defensively.

Trying to keep his tone politely neutral, Koujaku said, “Don’t bring Aoba into this. I’m not talking about him." By the end of the sentence, Koujaku's voice had taken on a steely kind of edge. Aoba, as ever, was Koujaku's to protect. Mizuki had better not suggest otherwise.

Mizuki stared at Koujaku, slowly shaking his head and still not looking at him, practically radiating disapproval.

“When we were in middle school, you cried for an hour once because somebody said your shoes looked gay,” Koujaku said, irritated and feeling that Mizuki’s reaction was distinctly unfair. Just because they were both Aoba’s close friends didn’t mean it was out of the realm of possibility for one of them to harbour uncomfortable feelings about homosexuality – as Koujaku did. Not that they applied to anyone other than himself. When Aoba had first started seeing Mink, Koujaku’s reaction had been embarrassingly eager. If Aoba was interested in Mink, that meant he liked guys in general, and then it wasn’t weird for Koujaku to be thinking about him in inappropriate ways sometimes, right? Except for the problem that Aoba was _in a relationship_ , so it was weird all over again. Now that Aoba had left Mink… Koujaku didn’t know. Maybe that was why he had asked Mizuki this question. Now he already regretted it. He didn't know what Mizuki was thinking, but it was probably that Koujaku was some kind of homophobe. God.

“Get with the times,” Mizuki said. “In high school I beat up a guy who was harassing a pair of lesbians. You missed it because you were on the mainland. And you know there is a gay couple in Dry Juice.”

That completely didn’t answer Koujaku’s question, but he didn’t know how to ask it any better. Taking a deep breath in and out through his nose, Koujaku stared up at the dark-smeared sky. He could see in his peripheral vision that Mizuki was looking at him, probably concerned, or maybe disgusted with the imagining that Koujaku was just intolerant. Koujaku clenched and unclenched his fists.

Finally, Koujaku said, “I’m not asking about those things. I’m asking you about Bluejay specifically. Or, fine,” he said recklessly, “Aoba, if you want. Wasn’t it – weird, when he came out?”

Mizuki looked at Koujaku pityingly. “Wasn’t it obvious? Didn’t you know he was having hook-ups with pretty much every kind of gender when he was in high school?”

“I wasn’t here,” Koujaku said through gritted teeth, though really he wanted to scream it. _I was on the mainland having needles put into me, do you understand that? Everything is different on Midorijima._

“I know, but it was a bit of a scandal, so I thought you might have heard of it,” Mizuki said. “Well, never mind. I don’t know how _you_ feel about it, but I guess I always knew, so it never really bothered me. I think there is something a little gay in everyone, anyway.”

Koujaku had to replay that last sentence over in his mind a few times before it could make any sense to him. “Mizuki, are you saying…” he started, but couldn’t even finish that sentence. Mizuki shrugged, enigmatic smile a little bit masklike. 

“Oh,” Koujaku said, staring straight out into the parking lot. The shadows beside the cars were black and profound. “Oh. I – Mizuki.” Unable to bring himself to say the right thing – which was, _I think you are right, maybe everyone is like that_ – Koujaku struggled to find something to say. How could he explain? Mizuki was his friend. Aoba was his friend. He didn’t have anything against them, and in fact was just like them, but the words wouldn’t come. 

In the end, Koujaku settled for, “Aoba can sleep with whoever he wants. It’s weird to me because I didn’t know he was like that. But he is my best friend. If someone hurt him because of – because of that, I would never forgive them. For Sei-chan, too, or anyone else I know.”

He paused awkwardly, wondering if he should add anything else. Koujaku didn’t know if Mizuki had been suffering over this, but maybe he was, and Koujaku wanted to reassure him as much as possible, though he didn’t know the best way.

A shy smile spreading over his face, Mizuki raised one eyebrow in mock suspicion. “Is that so?” he said, voice more pleased than sarcastic. 

“Yes,” Koujaku said. He swallowed, throat suddenly dry. “Am I going to have to defend you from someone?”

Now Mizuki’s expression morphed to just plain surprise, and Koujaku smiled benevolently at him, though his own heart was still pounding. 

“I mean, I still have my Dragon Flame Fists,” Mizuki said. Startled, Koujaku laughed. “I can take care of myself. But thanks,” Mizuki added. Koujaku nodded. And just like that, the tense air between them melted away. Leaning back against the cool, rough brick wall, Koujaku let out a deep breath as Mizuki kicked the doorstop away and went inside to grab two beers.

In hindsight, the fact that Bluejay had been to Midorijima and that Cockatiel was real didn’t change anything about Koujaku’s relationship to his music. As someone who knew what it was like to have your best friend dating a horrible person, Koujaku felt very relieved on Bluejay’s behalf, that he had successfully left the island. Funny how he had not only missed Aoba’s departure, but Bluejay’s as well, in the span of just a few weeks. 

But more importantly than that. Koujaku had expressed his support for Mizuki, and he knew down in his bones that Mizuki would support him, too, if ever the time should come. They had always supported each other, even though Mizuki didn’t have the faintest clue about most of Koujaku’s serious problems. At the same time, Koujaku felt a little disgusted with himself for seeking reassurance so badly, as if he actually had a chance with Aoba now. Doubtlessly, Aoba would need time and space to recover from his relationship with Mink, and Koujaku shouldn’t see this as an opportunity. At the same time, it was hard to continue pining without the slightest hope that things should ever change. If Aoba came back, should Koujaku try and make a move? 

When Mizuki came back out of the restaurant, holding a beer in each hand, he found Koujaku sitting on top of the ice bin, staring blankly at the starless night sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Track 12 of the DMMD game OST. I think it might actually play in Mizuki's club in the game, which, if true, is a very happy accident. 
> 
> [Let's all appreciate this picture of Koujaku](http://66.media.tumblr.com/298eccee14372718437377272f0284cd/tumblr_njxdj8ini21rtekm5o2_250.jpg). It's by [magemg](http://magemg.tumblr.com/post/134854396435/final-cover-for-yajuu-monogatari-printed-version).
> 
> I think I got better at writing Koujaku, but I wasn't very excited about this chapter in general other than that. I think I'm getting tired of my own voice. (;-_-)/  
> I'm also not particularly satisfied with the chapter title.
> 
> In Aoba's AU, Mizuki is specifically a red-rumped swallow. Swallows are symbols of good luck and you’re not supposed to disturb their nests, which they tend to build in the eaves of people’s houses.
> 
> My friend Ilona would like you all to know this: If Mizuki had a twin like Aoba does, that guy’s Rib team name would be Soft Sandpaper (lol)
> 
> Kinsey scale headcanons!  
> 0 (straight) - Beni  
> 1 – Mink  
> 2 – Koujaku (most likely homoromantic)  
> 3 (bi) – Sei (demisexual to the extreme), Noiz  
> 4 – Mizuki, Aoba, Tae-san  
> 5 – Clear  
> 6 (gay) – Ren
> 
> Questions/comments always welcome!


	13. July

As soon as the keyboard came back, Aoba put it into the garden shed, found a tinkling music-box sound that reminded him of the rainbow bottles hanging in the windowsill, and added music to Clear’s jellyfish song. As it turned out, the keyboard repair guy had done a really good job sticking the eleven missing keys back on; Aoba would have thought the keyboard was brand knew if he hadn’t known the difference. The repair guy had also left a note on the keyboard saying something like “please don’t stop calling”, which Aoba threw out. The bonus he gave to the keyboard guy ended up being not 1,000 but 5,000 yen, because Aoba still felt guilty about having had to use Scrap. 

Having the keyboard back was so, so worth it, though. The first thing Aoba did was record Clear’s jellyfish song with the fancy microphone he counted as part of his kit but rarely ever used. It took only a few takes for the recording to be perfect, not that Aoba had expected anything less from Clear’s beautiful voice. Clear himself didn’t think much of his own voice, but Aoba didn’t waste time arguing with him. The beautiful rainbow bottle sun-catcher hanging over the window in the shed provided the second piece of inspiration. Aoba replicated its tinkling chime with a simulated music box, then a harp, and then added some more strings to simulate the cresting of waves.

[ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qx6RfDHYgao)

_One of Bluejay’s close friends is the Albatross, a beautiful ocean bird who flew in from the shore to keep Bluejay company. Albatross sang to Bluejay a song about the creatures he saw by the seaside, and this is part is about his favourite creature of all, the calm and crystalline jellyfish._

After posting Kurage no Uta, Aoba sat down to begin the very important task of writing that thank-you song he had mentally promised Noiz. He really wanted it to be good and worthy of his friend, so he worked on it slowly, and simultaneously with other projects. The garden shed had horrible acoustics, but fortunately Aoba’s fantastic headphones had survived the precarious motorcycle journey. Aoba spent half of his waking hours in the shed, and the other half in the house with Ren, Clear, or a frying pan. One evening, Aoba decided to walk into town just for the hell of it. Following the quiet inland roads through sleepy, quiet neighbourhoods, Aoba watched the sun set behind the trees and small clouds skim lightly across the sky. The gentle breeze playing through his hair felt like caresses. Aoba felt like a weight had been lifted from him, like he was light and free as the bird his online persona pretended to be. After that, Aoba took many more walks, sometimes with Ren and sometimes alone.

As for the keychains, it took a surprisingly short time after Aoba contracted an online seller to start producing them for them to become available. The week after he posted the announcement about them on his Ensou account, he came home to find Clear unpacking a box containing fifty Bluejay and Redbird keychains. Clear offered Aoba one of each, then announced that he was going to sell the rest of them to people in town and his coworkers at the lab, who he had apparently been preaching the gospel of Sly Blue too since Angel Voices came out. When Aoba asked how Clear could afford to buy fifty Bluejay keychains, Clear calmly replied that he planned to raise the prices to compensate for the cost of shipping.

It took a moment for Aoba to get over his initial shock and embarrassment. When he did, he stared down in awe at the plastic printed birds he had cupped in his hands. Something that he had made had taken form, had taken life. Aoba felt fiercely protective of the two little birds he was holding. Not only were they real, they were his, and soon many other people would own pieces of them as well. Other people liked them. There was no real way to describe that feeling. 

Near the end of the month, Aoba posted a small drabble he linked to Prince Redbird, pulled out of his drafts folder. It wasn’t anything to write home about, but Prince Redbird was probably Aoba’s most popular side character, to Ren/Pip’s dismay, so it was good for the fans. It was at that moment that Aoba decided to start phasing Cockatiel out of the story. Some of the fans seemed to like him, but Aoba didn’t want him in his creative headspace any longer – not to write about him, nor to even think about this. So Aoba posted this:

[ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MvAcLMFwsXY)

_It has been a very long time since Cockatiel came to visit Bluejay, and he is beginning to worry that Cockatiel has left him all alone._

July came, and the days grew longer and hotter still. The cicadas hummed in the trees outside Aoba’s garden shed, the trees grew green and tall, and the humid air itself vibrated with life. At least, to Aoba it did. The garden shed didn’t have air conditioning in it, so Aoba brought in a bunch of cheap fans to keep the electronics cool and worked mostly at night, when he could turn the fans off and have some peace and quiet to concentrate. The Jellyfish Song became very popular, netting Aoba about 1,000 more followers and several hundred comments. 

When Aoba showed all of this to Clear, he was so overcome with happiness that he burst into tears and sobbed into Aoba’s shoulder for a good five minutes. Although he wouldn’t let Aoba credit his Ensou account on the song itself, he let Aoba put his real name on it and start selling Albatross & Jellyfish keychains. As it turned out, the fans didn’t just want keychains, they also wanted t-shirts. Aoba and Clear were all too happy to oblige them. In their first month of keychain sales they had made around 20,000 yen, not counting the extra 7,000¥ Clear had made with his resales to coworkers. A couple more people had put tips into Aoba’s digital tip jar, which Aoba was now thinking of his “equipment upgrade” jar. And if anything ever got damaged in the future, he could use the money from the tip jar to fix it, which was very comforting to know. 

It took Aoba two weeks to finish the song for Noiz. Aoba’s first instinct was to write a song about Rhyme, since Noiz loved it so much, but it was hard because Aoba had never played it himself. Instead, he hit upon the idea of making a song about Noiz’s personally customised Allmates, the Usagimodoki.

[ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yGr3_5BaUO0)

Noiz’s reaction to having a song written about him was typical.

 **SlyBlue:** Hey Ruff I made this song for you!  
**RuffRabbit:** wait really  
**SlyBlue:** Yeah it’s a thank you for helping me out all the time and getting me off of Midorijima.  
**RuffRabbit:** what took you so long  
**SlyBlue:** Hey it’s not like I can just shit out any old song and expect it to be good. This song was a lot of work.  
**RuffRabbit:** what do you expect me to say thank you  
**SlyBlue:** Not really. I was kinda hoping you would like it though.  
**RuffRabbit:** I like it. it’s really good  
**SlyBlue:** Thanks.  
**RuffRabbit:** you’re welcome  
**RuffRabbit:** what?

In short, Noiz was extremely pleased. He later admitted, under pressure from Clear, to having made it his ringtone. Aoba was secretly flattered by this, knowing the high standard to which Noiz normally held his music. 

**SlyBlue:** I made it about your Allmates because you like rabbits so much.  
**RuffRabbit:** I don’t like rabbits /that/ much  
**SlyBlue:** Your icon username and Allmates are all rabbit related.  
**RuffRabbit:** oh my god, maybe I do like rabbits that much

In a later conversation, Noiz (for the third time) asked Aoba how he was doing, and if living with Clear was better than living with Mink/Cockatiel. And in truth, it absolutely was. After having lived with Clear for over a month, Aoba could genuinely say that Clear was not only a good friend, but a good person, and possibly the best person for him to be spending the summer with. Ren seemed to enjoy being at Clear’s house too, usually joining them at the dinner table to talk with Clear and Aoba. Ren had also claimed the unused living room as his, because it had a lot of cushions at the perfect height for a little dog to climb onto and sit on, which Aoba thought was adorable. At night, after the sounds of Clear’s footfalls on the ceiling overhead had ceased, Ren would climb into Aoba’s bed and curl up with him in sleep mode. Being able to listen to music in bed or cuddle Ren at night was an incredible luxury Aoba had missed more than he could say. Sometimes when he woke up in the morning, he would lie in the pool of light coming through the window with his arms around Ren, thinking about how lucky he was to be here. 

In addition to doing the cooking, Aoba found himself fixing things around the house, more out of annoyance than any charitable sentiment. The lights in his room, the taps everywhere – he didn’t actually know how to fix any of these things, but a quick search on the internet and the tools that had been relocated from the shed to the closet usually did the trick. It was only later, when Clear thanked Aoba profusely for fixing the knob in the shower that Aoba realised he had been following Noiz’s advice without realising it: he was making himself useful in the household without even thinking about it. 

When Aoba asked why Clear hadn’t considered fixing the taps himself, he replied, with a straight face, “If it isn’t a jellyfish, I don’t really know how to fix it.” Clear’s little quirks were more amusing than annoying, as in the “I’m going to say a weird thing about how the moon looks like a tapetum” and the “I collect glass bottles” kind of quirks. Sometimes his speech would be overly formal or a little robotic. But he had the most giving heart of anyone Aoba had ever met, rivalling even Sei. Speaking of whom – although Sei had told Aoba not to give Clear his number, he hadn’t said anything about the webcomic. Clear devoured Usui in a week and was well on his way to becoming Sei’s internet fanboy, just as he was for Aoba. 

At the same time, it was so weird for Aoba to be living in another’s house. Just as the rules in Mink’s house were so different from those at Granny’s, Clear’s rules were completely different from Mink’s. Clear didn’t really have any rules, per se, at least none that went beyond “don’t be a shit houseguest”. It was so different, but in a comforting way. It was like everything had been turned upside down in a way that made it somehow right-side up again. Like the sky had been cleared. 

This feeling didn’t wasn’t persistent enough to be constant, however. Following in the vein of Empty Shadow, Aoba released another song to try and slowly convince his fandom that Cockatiel was gone now. 

[ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lsyNZXtrcOA)

It was then that Aoba realised that the sad songs he was making were a form of retroactive mourning. He didn’t regret having left Mink; that was unquestionably for the best. But it wasn’t like Aoba could just forget him. Reminders of him were everywhere. In the motorcycle parked in Clear’s driveway. In the shirt Aoba had worn on their first date. In the sound of the kitchen door opening when Aoba was cooking in the evenings. In certain melodies, in certain instruments. In the worried tilt of Ren’s head when he saw Aoba staring blankly out the windows at night, Mink was inescapable.

The more it happened – Mink’s name flitting through Aoba’s mind at random moments throughout the day – the more he realised that the majority of his strongest memories of Mink were bad. Sometimes Aoba wondered what Mink was doing and if he even cared that Aoba was gone. If Mink was still angry – well, Aoba always had Scrap to protect himself when he went back to Midorijima. The thought of having to use Scrap on Mink made Aoba nauseous. 

But other times, Aoba wasn’t afraid. Mink had loved him once, so maybe he could love him again. Aoba would try to fantasize about being with Mink again, but these dreams always dissolved into darkness and dust. Instead, Koujaku would be there, offering Aoba his hand, his heart, and lots of other parts of him too. Sometimes Aoba imagined himself putting a hand on Koujaku’s bare chest and kissing him until they melted into each other, but other times he rolled over and pushed his face into the pillow. Too much, too soon, too wrong. Aoba’s heart was too divided.

And so July grew, raising fruitful branches towards the shimmering sky. And so flowers bloomed and faded, and so August began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs:  
> 1\. Kurage no Uta - actually called Kurage no Uta in real life (it just means "jellyfish song" lol). From the anime OST. This version, unlike the other one, has extended strings.  
> 2\. Empty Shadow - real name "kage", which is Japanese for something very similar - "shadow, silhouette, outline of a person who is no longer there". From the anime.  
> 3\. Usagimodoki - this one I basically ripped wholesale from the anime, concept and all. "Usagimodoki" is the kind of Allmate that Noiz has, those square rabbit cubes that hang off of his pants. This song plays in the first episode when Aoba is pulled into a drive-by Rhyme game.  
> 4\. Gone - Track #11 from the game. 
> 
> I made Clear an Albatross because they are independent, lone, proud, impressive AF birds. Also, the short-tailed albatross is white, although not completely. I considered just making Clear a straight-up jellyfish, but it makes no sense because Bluejay was still in his cage and in the middle of a forest at the time Aoba posted the song.
> 
> A tapetum is the part of the cat’s eye that makes them shiny at night.
> 
> I regret that I can’t do a better job of writing Clear as neurodivergent (with a learning disorder, or possibly Asberger's). Please excuse me.
> 
> Questions/comments always welcome!


	14. August

The thick white curtains were pulled over the suffocating noon heat, letting in only a cool, pale glow. This gentle light reflected off the polished surfaces of countless glass bottles which were arrayed on the chest of drawers, a few small shelves, and hanging on strings strung overhead. Spherical green-glass balls as big as Aoba’s head were hanging from the rafters, and a few suncatchers similar to the one in the garden shed were scattered around – on the walls, over the window, dangling from the handle of the closet. These were clinking softly in the breeze from the fan, which was sitting precariously close to the open trap-door, where a long orange extension cord dangled out of sight. Aoba, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a screwdriver in one hand and a flashlight between his teeth, would have been sweating if it weren’t for that fan. Though he was wearing a t-shirt and his hair was up, the second floor of the house was so much hotter than Aoba’s bedroom. 

Aoba was here because Clear had asked him to come fix the lights. Unlike a lot of the other household chores Aoba had been taking upon himself, this one was something he already knew how to do. Fixing up the complicated lighting in Sei’s room had really helped him learn how to do his own wiring, which was good, because it looked like whoever had done the wiring in Clear’s room had been either drunk or very confused about how to turn on a light. Aoba had had to turn off the electricity to the entire room to safely do his job, and it was a miracle the place hadn’t spontaneously combusted already.

“Ao-san, would you like some lemonade?” Clear said, head popping merrily up through the open trapdoor. Yelping in surprise, Aoba dropped the flashlight from his mouth into his lap and the screw he had been trying to take out of the outlet faceplate flew somewhere off into the corner. 

Muttering, “Damnit!” Aoba exchanged screwdriver for flashlight and began patting around in the corner with the side of his hand. Meanwhile, Clear looked on in dismay. 

“Oh no, did I startle you?” Although Aoba wasn’t looking at him, he could imagine the little frown Clear would be making. 

“It’s fine,” Aoba said distractedly. His pinkie hit the screw and he quickly made a swipe for it before it could fly out of his grasp. “A-hah!” Aoba exclaimed, and turned around to face Clear, the dropped screw held triumphantly in the same hand as the flashlight. 

“What’s going on?” Aoba said. Clear had climbed high enough that his head, arms, and shoulders were through the hole in the floor, while the rest of his torso was out of sight. In one hand, Clear held a three-quarters full glass with condensation beading on the side. Aoba licked his lips. 

“I thought you might like this. It’s hot up here,” Clear said, holding up the glass. Oh, did Aoba want to drink that. But not while he was still in this precarious position, with a disassembled outlet resting in his lap. 

“Yes please. Just set it down and I’ll grab it in a minute,” Aoba said, a touch regretful that he couldn’t just snatch it out of Clear’s hands and drink the whole thing right away. Switching the flashlight back on, Aoba returned his attention to the screw and the plate. After a moment’s pause, Clear climbed up the ladder, put the glass on the bedside table, a surface miraculously void of bottles. The bedsprings creaked as Clear sat down in the middle of the bed, watching Aoba from a short distance. 

Upon realising that Clear was just going to sit there until Aoba was done with the faceplate, Aoba looked up again, resting the flashlight on his knee.

“You don’t have to wait for me,” Aoba said, thinking that Clear had better things to do on a Sunday than watch Aoba put screws in holes and try not to electrocute himself. Clear gently smiled. 

“I thought I would keep you company, if that’s okay with you,” Clear said. 

“Sure,” Aoba said, though he knew he would be a little distracted. This wasn’t the first time Clear had come to watch him work; Clear had also “helped” Aoba fix the kitchen taps by trying to use water to cook something while Aoba was working. But that was a funny memory, not a bad one. And Clear knew better than to put himself between Aoba and an electrical current, Aoba hoped. Squinting down at the faceplate he was holding in the beam of the flashlight, Aoba finally managed to get the second screw out. 

“You know,” Clear said as Aoba almost dropped both screws again, “I’m really glad you’re here, Ao-san. You’re so kind, and you fix all my things. I don’t know what my house would be like if you weren’t here right now.”

Aoba smiled. “My ex always said that everyone in the household should contribute to it somehow. So I’m glad that I can help.”

“Really? He said that?” Clear said curiously. “He sounds very wise. You know, you contribute to my household just by being here. When my grandpa died, I was very lonely and your music made me feel better. Do you think that is what he meant?”

It took a moment for all of what Clear had said to register. “No, he –” Aoba started, then stopped and thought about Clear’s words. Contribute to the household just by being there? That was something Mink would never have said. Aoba wanted to argue with it, but as he thought about it the sudden desire to cry welled up inside of him. Yes, Mink would never have said, it but Aoba had been content to keep the house almost completely by himself, Mink’s only contribution being monetary. Yet that apartment had been saturated with Mink’s presence, and that had been enough for Aoba. 

And then there was Sei, in Aoba’s other household, who had been too sick to do anything other than put drawings on the refrigerator and do schoolwork in bed. But without him, the Seragaki house would have been cold and sombre. It wasn’t that contributing to a household made him a valuable member of the house. It wasn’t about anyone’s worth at all. It was about supporting the people that you cared about. 

Aoba took a deep breath, blinking back the teardrops that had suddenly come on. It took only a moment for him to feel better, though an echoing sense of loss remained. “I don’t think that’s exactly what he meant, but you’re wiser than him anyway, Clear-kun,” Aoba sniffed. For some reason, his he felt the need to keep talking even as he took apart the bundle of wires in front of him with deft, instinctive motions. “There were a lot of things I think he was wrong about.”

“Are you okay?” Clear said, sounding alarmed. Aoba gave a smile that was more like a grimace, remembering his breakdown in the parking lot back when they first met. Although Clear had never brought it up, Aoba could tell he remembered. 

“I’m fine,” Aoba sighed, turning his head a little to wipe his eyes and nose on his shoulder before reaching into the canvas bag beside him for a wire cutter. “It’s over now.”

The bed creaked as Clear shifted a bit. “I do not think this Cockatiel person was very kind to you,” Clear said, speaking slowly and thoughtfully. “I do not think I approve of how he treated you at all.

Aoba sighed again. Memories rose unbidden to his mind. Blood on his fists. Blood on his lips, deliciously bitter. Mink had been there. Himself, laughing. The swing of a fist, a crunching of brick, and Mink was saving him. From himself, again. 

“Do you want to know how we met?” Aoba said abruptly. Maybe Clear would be less willing to take his side after hearing this story, but it wasn’t fair for everyone around him to think Mink was all bad. Not when without him, Aoba would probably be dead in a gutter somewhere. 

“I – I – is it really alright for you to tell me something so personal?” Clear said. “I would like to know if you are willing to tell me, but it is not necessary.”

Although Aoba couldn’t explain it, he wanted Clear to know what had happened between him and Mink, all the way back in the beginning. No one else knew. Sei had pieces, to be sure, and doubtless there were many Rib players all over Midorijima who had seen his face at the time, but Aoba was the only one who knew the truth. 

It had started way back in high school. In elementary and middle school, Sei had been so sick he could barely leave the house. Aoba’s grades had been amazing, because he had to pay attention constantly in class or risk being unable to help Sei, who absolutely depended on him. But now Sei could go to school and attend classes on his own, instead of having Aoba bring him home the work and tutor him through all of it. As for Aoba, his grades were starting to slip and his teachers were taking notice. But it was hard to say if the reason was that he didn’t have to take care of Sei anymore, or if it was something else entirely. 

Because underneath it all, Aoba was angry. 

At what, he couldn’t have said. But by graduation Aoba was the terror of the school. Look at him funny and you’d get your teeth kicked in – or worse. Some said that Aoba had the power to beat someone so badly they forgot who they were. His one supposed victim was conveniently was never seen around at school, and Aoba himself no longer remembered what had happened in that fight. Everything about that time was dim and foggy, seen through a blood-red haze. Looking back on it, there hadn’t been as many incidents as people said, not more than two or three a year. But there was something about his demeanour, the way his eyes gleamed gold when he turned away from himself in the mirror, something had made the other kids terrified of him. 

He had been losing himself to Scrap. 

That was the only explanation Aoba had been able to come up with after the fact. The more he used Scrap, the more violent he became. Finally it got to the point where he was roaming the streets, looking for new thrills and sensations and most of all, pain. At home, when he crept in at three or four AM, Granny would be waiting up for him with a needle and thread and a bowl of hot water to wash off the blood and grime. She gave him medicine, too, but it only ever gave him headaches so Aoba got out of taking it as often as he could.

The one thing that kept Aoba from losing his mind entirely was Sei. No matter what else Aoba said and did, if he shattered china in the kitchen or dropped books out the window, he could never lift his hand to Sei. And somewhere inside of him, Aoba knew – he didn’t want to be violent, he didn’t want to be bad, he didn’t want to be like this. So whenever Sei wasn’t feeling well or needed help with something, Aoba would stay home and dedicate every moment he had to taking care of Sei. Somewhere along the way Aoba figured out that Sei was purposefully making himself sick, or at least sicker, just to keep Aoba in the house for longer. At first Aoba was angry, but in the end it made no difference. Aoba would sit at Sei’s bedside, reading him stories or just talking with him. He held down a job at a burger joint for long enough to afford to buy Sei the Cintiq, then got himself fired exactly one week later. 

Around the time Aoba turned twenty, it seemed like things were getting a little bit better. Koujaku returned from the mainland, and Aoba, even an Aoba with very little self-control, was reluctant to act badly in front of him. Aoba took up a new job, at the Junk Shop Heibon, and bought the midi keyboard and gussied up his computer. His behaviour in the daylight hours improved, but he would still restlessly walk the midnight streets, the name Sly Blue floating around him in a dark and ominous cloud. 

One night, in an alleyway in the north of the Old Resident District, Aoba got into a fight with two really tough-looking guys. He didn’t remember the fight very well, only the aftermath: blood on his fists, blood in his mouth, one guy sprawled on the ground and the other twisting his arms behind his back as a shadowy figure advanced from the other end of the alley. 

Mink. A person Aoba already knew, from spectating at Rib matches and illegal street fights. Aoba was about to use Scrap on him, when Mink slapped him across the face and said, “Are you possessed?”

It was the first time anyone had questioned Aoba’s powers, and Mink didn’t seem the least bit afraid. That night, Mink let him go – with a warning. Aoba felt a little humiliated by the seeming ease with which Mink had dismissed him, but something in him was simultaneously fascinated with Mink. The next time he found himself wandering around after dark, his feet took him back to the north of the Old Resident District. The second time they met, Mink did not let Aoba go. Instead, he took him back to his apartment. And after that, the two of them were unofficially seeing one another. If Aoba’s dark side tried rearing its ugly head when they were together, Mink would just slap it out of him or distract him with sex. Rough sex. Very rough sex.

Maybe Aoba should have seen it as a warning sign that once Aoba was better, Mink wouldn’t know how else to treat him. But Aoba knew that his behaviour was taking a toll on his family, and in his moments of lucidity, he wished that someone was capable of stopping him. And Mink was, so Mink became his rock. It was that simple. By the time Granny started questioning where Aoba was going all the time and why he had so many new bruises, it was already too late. In a rare instance where Mink let down his guard, Aoba was able to find out about Mink’s past using a combination of subtle Scrap and clever reasoning, and what he found underneath Mink’s tough exterior was someone who was very deeply damaged. Someone who could be gentle, or so Aoba thought. By the time Granny had learnt Mink’s name and ordered Aoba to stop seeing him, Aoba was already in love. 

And that was the whole story, as best as Aoba could tell it.

By the time Aoba finished speaking, the sun was low in the sky, hovering just a finger’s width above the treeline. The shadows were long, and if it weren’t for the flashlight in Aoba’s lap he wouldn’t have been able to keep working. The glass of lemonade sat, long-drained, on the bedside table, and Clear was lying on his side, head propped up on one hand, attention fixed on Aoba’s story. As for Aoba, he had almost completely finished with his task. If it hadn’t been for the job in front of him, the need to keep working even on auto-pilot, Aoba might have broken down somewhere in the middle of his story as the memories flooded back. But he hadn’t. Shoulders and arms shaking with tiredness, Aoba put down his tools and flopped down on the floor, staring up at the glass balls in the rafters. The whirring of the fan filled the room.

“Ao-san…” Clear said, sitting up and peering down at Aoba with a sad expression on his face. “Did all of those things really happen to you?”

Aoba nodded, totally drained. What would Clear say? Aoba was afraid…

Clear’s eyebrows drew together, knitting a little mark of concern onto his pale forehead. It was easy to see Clear’s emotions because he was always honest about them, but Aoba didn’t always know how to interpret what he was thinking – as now. Swallowing, Aoba wrapped one arm around himself and closed his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” Clear said softly. “That must have been very scary for you. To not know why you are angry, or what you can do about it. I think you are very brave, for trying to protect your brother and grandma. If you hadn’t gone to live with Cockatiel-san, maybe they would have gotten hurt.”

A flash of a smile shot across Aoba’s face as he wiped away the tears in the corners of his eyes. “They got hurt anyway, Clear. When I left Granny’s house, she told me she didn’t ever want to see my face again. I felt Sei’s pain every single day I lived with Cockatiel and didn’t speak to him. I want to make it up to them, but I don’t know how. All they know from me is violence and getting into trouble.”

“If that were true, then why would they miss you so much?” Clear said gently. 

Oh…

“But I miss Cockatiel, and that’s how he treated me,” Aoba said miserably, putting his hands over his face. The dust on the floor under Clear’s bed was making his hair itch, but he didn’t have the energy to move. Instead, he pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and took deep breaths in and out. 

“I don’t think that’s true,” Clear said, voice still gentle and calm. “It sounds like you care about your brother a lot. You love him so much – you’re crying! Oh no, let me get you a tissue.”

Giving a weak and watery laugh, Aoba reached up as Clear passed him three tissues from the box beside the bed. They worked a little better than his t-shirt to wipe away the tears which were still stubbornly welling up in his eyes. Were these tears of sadness? God, no. They were tears of relief. Clear didn’t hate him. And Sei might just forgive him, if he hadn’t already. Aoba didn’t know about Granny, but he wanted to so badly to hope. 

And Clear was just sitting here, handing him tissues like he hadn’t done a thing wrong in his life. It was so unfair. But it was wonderful. 

“I wonder if Cockatiel-san feels this bad about what he did to you,” Clear murmured thoughtfully. 

Aoba shook his head, which was more like rolling it from side to side since he was still lying on the floor. “I don’t think so,” he said. Suddenly, he remembered – how long ago was it? Crap! Two months ago, Mink had left two messages on Aoba’s Coil, and Aoba still hadn’t listened to them. Aoba quelled his momentary panic by telling himself that it hadn’t changed a thing in two months so he didn’t have to listen to them now. 

“Something wrong?” Clear said, noticing the change in Aoba’s expression. Aoba rolled his head ‘no’ again. There was a moment of silence.

Another thought struck, and Aoba said, “You know, some people online are mad at me taking Cockatiel out of my story.” Aoba felt bad about that. Like he was somehow ruining his own music for them, like he owed it to them to keep Cockatiel in there no matter how wrong it felt. If only Aoba were strong enough to do that.

“Why?” Clear said, as Aoba limply threw a balled-up tissue at the trash can and missed. Without saying anything, Clear reached over, picked it up, and moved it the final foot necessary to actually land it in the trash can. 

“It’s mostly fans who have been there since the beginning, who don’t like him as much as Redbird,” Aoba explained. Because his nose was still clogged up, his voice came out a little nasally, but Clear didn’t seem to mind. 

“There aren’t any Cockatiel keychains,” Clear said, his tone so serious Aoba cracked a small, watery smile. “I don’t understand your fans.”

“I guess they got attached,” Aoba said, though he didn’t understand either. Most of his fans had shown up after Fighting!, so presumably they were all fans of Redbird. Maybe people just like watching him pine from afar while not actually getting with Bluejay at all. To Aoba, that was pretty weird. If he had his way, he would – he would – 

He would what? Confess to Koujaku? Get Bluejay and Redbird together for real? 

Letting out a short exclamation of irritation, Aoba rolled over onto his stomach and pillowed his head on his arms. Clear, who had been leaning towards him, jumped back in surprise. 

“Eh? What is it?” Clear said, as Aoba absently finger-combed the ends of his hair. 

“Oh, nothing,” Aoba said. “Just that those fans are going to have to deal with it. Cockatiel’s going.”

Clear cleared his throat. Looking over at him, Aoba saw that Clear was making a funny scrunched up face, like he was forcibly restraining himself from saying anything. Raising an eyebrow, Aoba waited for Clear to speak, but Clear only shook his head. But Aoba thought he knew what Clear was thinking… 

“I don’t know about Redbird,” he said, and Clear loudly exhaled. Meanwhile, Aoba recalled a conversation he’d had with Noiz at the beginning of the summer. _You’ll notice I never said “Are you going to ask him out right this minute?” I just said, “Are you going to ask him out?”_ Aoba still didn’t know the answer to that question. A large part of him really, really wanted to say yes. The rest of him was screaming that that was a terrible idea.

“You really care about him, don’t you,” Clear murmured. 

“Yes, I do,” Aoba admitted. 

Clear smiled. “Don’t worry, Ao-san. I’m sure that everything will work out.”

“Thanks,” Aoba said, picking remaining tissues off the floor and swiping them back and forth over his now-dry cheeks. “And – and thanks for listening. 

“Thank you for trusting me with your story,” Clear replied. Aoba threw the rest of the tissues in the trash-can, this time hitting his target, and picked up the screwdriver again. He was feeling pretty tired, but the work was almost done. Less than fifteen minutes later, they were ready for the power to the room be restored. Then Aoba finally switched on the lights, and all the glass bottles shone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reference my own fic a lot, so hooray for internal consistency. 
> 
> FYI, the part I'm working on right now is dragging a little for me, so updates may be slower than usual.
> 
> Comments always welcome!!


	15. Makeru Na

The next morning Clear was off at work before Aoba woke up, so he sat in his bed with Ren beside him, scrolling through comments on his Ensou account. Most of them were quite the ego-boost, but some were spam or junk that Aoba had to edit out. That Kansuzume guy had left a few more short comments, mostly polite nothings about how much he liked all the stuff about Redbird. The only interesting thing about those messages was how most of them had been posted between midnight and four AM, prompting Aoba to wonder if Kansuzume worked some kind of night shift. 

There was something that Aoba had to do. A task that had been in the back of his mind since last night. Although he really didn’t want to, Aoba knew it was time to listen to those messages from Mink from the beginning of the summer. Just the thought of what Mink might have said made Aoba’s stomach curl. Would Mink be upset, or just angry? Was he feeling betrayed? Did he understand why Aoba had left? 

Aoba let out a deep, tense breath, and picked Ren up. 

“What is it?” Ren said, obligingly sitting on Aoba’s crossed legs and looking up at him. 

“I’m going to listen to the messages from Mink,” Aoba explained, and Ren’s eyes widened. 

“Aoba…” Ren said, concern written on every feature. “You’re not thinking of going back to him, are you?”

“What?” Aoba laughed. “No, of course not. Silly.” Ren dipped his head in silent apology, prompting Aoba to smile as he scratched Ren lovingly behind the ears. 

“I am very glad to hear it,” Ren said. “But if that is the case, what is there to be afraid of?”

“That is a very good point, Ren,” Aoba said, hosting Ren up into the air and holding him at eye level. Ren said nothing, just looked down at Aoba with a disapproving air, his little paws dangling. 

“You want to listen, too?” Aoba asked. 

“I will always stay by your side if you desire it,” Ren said. In return for that lovely sentiment, Aoba bounced Ren up and down a little, making him yelp in irritation, then relax as Aoba pressed their foreheads together for a moment. It was a slightly disgruntled Ren who was set down on the bedspread a moment later, but Aoba was feeling much better now. 

“Let’s see,” Aoba said to himself, as he scrolled through his old call and message log. Over the past two months he had spoken to Noiz, Clear, Sei, and Mizuki as mizu-hi, and their messages were cluttering up the history. Finally, Aoba reached Mink’s last message from the beginning of June. So long ago… Aoba remembered all the fear, sorrow, and rage that had been coursing through him when he first arrived at this house. Listening to Mink’s messages could bring that all back. 

But he had to know.

Aoba clicked on the first message, then put it on speakerphone and pressed play. 

“Wherever you are, come home right now. That is an order, Aoba. I will give you a twenty-four hour grace period. You can come back any time and there will be no repercussions. After that, I will go to your house and I will find out where you went. I can’t believe that you are childish enough to believe you can just run away from your problems. Do you want to go back to how you were when I found you? I won’t let that happen, you little pest. You’re too weak to survive on your own. Come back.”

Numbly, Aoba’s trembling hands reached for the back button to hear the second message. Ren was standing en guarde beside him with his forehead pressed into Aoba’s waist, unmoving, a silent comfort. 

The second message was timestamped exactly twenty-four hours later, and was exactly one line long.

“I’ll find you.”

There was a long moment of silence, and the acid churned in Aoba’s stomach. Quietly, Ren said, “He doesn’t know you very well, Aoba.”

“Clearly not,” Aoba murmured, still in shock. What even was that message? “You’re weak”? “I’ll go to your house”? “That is an order”? Who the fuck did Mink think he was? Even if Aoba had spelled it out for him, Mink wouldn’t have understood why he left because he was too determined to see the world through the lens of his own shit-coloured glasses. Had he felt _anything_ about Aoba’s leaving? Had he ever seen Aoba as anything other than another fucking job to do? Was that why he had agreed to go out with him in the first place? 

“Oh, fuck him!” Aoba spat, getting to his feet, so angry that he felt like he was going to be sick if he didn’t _do_ something.

“Aoba,” Ren said urgently, as Aoba yanked open a drawer and started rooting around for a shirt he could go outside in. 

“I’m fine,” Aoba said tersely. “I just can’t believe I wasted so much time with that asshole. We have nothing in common. I like music and he likes beating people up. How did I ever think that was going to work?”

Ren raised a paw helplessly in the air as if to stop him, then thought the better of it and took a nervous step back. “Aoba, your anger levels appear to be rising precipitously. Please calm down. Are you going somewhere?” he said, as Aoba pulled on a pair of jeans. 

“No, I’m just going to the shed,” Aoba said. He turned towards Ren and folded his arms. “I’m just – I’m just mad. I spent seven months living with him, and it’s like he doesn’t even know me. I guess I was volatile, or something, when I first moved in. But I’m different now, right?”

“Your mental state is considerably changed from what it was when you were in high school,” Ren said. “I don’t think you are a danger to yourself, if that is what you are asking.”

Aoba sighed, sagging against the wall behind him. That’s what he had thought, but it was nice that Ren was confirming it. 

“You know,” Aoba started. He replayed the message in his head one more time, while Ren waited patiently for Aoba to finish his sentence. It took a while, because this was hard to say. But even though he was still internally fuming, he wanted to be real with himself.

“He was right about one thing,” Aoba said slowly. “I did run away from my problems.”

“I suppose that is partly true,” Ren said. “But you did not leave Mink for your own benefit. If it hadn’t been for his disdain towards my person, perhaps you would have stayed.”

Aoba let out a sharp, sarcastic laugh. “Maybe. That was the one thing that would make up my mind the fastest. But by the end, I hated being there. I already wanted to leave.”

This was a conclusion – an admission, really – that Aoba had come to in the past few weeks. Although Mink’s brutal treatment of Ren had been an important factor in Aoba leaving… it wasn’t the only thing. In reality, Aoba had been thinking about leaving since the night he had dreamed of – since the day he wrote the first song about Prince Redbird. Leaving Mink had been a decision that built up slowly, not some overnight thing, no matter how it might appear. 

“No matter the reason, I am glad you decided to leave,” Ren said sincerely, and Aoba smiled. It was hard to stay mad when Ren was around.

“Let’s go make breakfast,” Aoba said, opening the bedroom door and stepping out into the hallway. Ren obediently jumped off the bed and came trotting after him. “I wonder if Mink actually went to my house. Sei didn’t say anything about it,” Aoba said. 

“As I know your brother, I would say that he wouldn’t want to worry you if such a thing did occur,” Ren replied. Aoba nodded, a little guiltily. Sei was afraid of Mink, but Aoba hadn’t felt any intense traumatic emotions from Sei in the past two months, so there was no reason to believe Mink had done anything bad to him. Still, it was also thoughts like this that made Aoba feel that he should have stayed on Midorijima, to protect his brother in person. Running away from his problems, huh?

“I have to think about this,” Aoba said, as they entered the kitchen. Even though he was referring to his own behaviour, he couldn’t help but toss out a, “Man, fuck Mink.”

“Yes,” Ren said flatly, and Aoba laughed. 

Trying hard to calm down and think, Aoba began the motions of putting together some eggs on rice. Helpful as ever, Ren brought him spoons and measuring cups from the drawers he could reach, then scrambled up onto a chair and gave gentle suggestions every so often. Things like, “That’s too much water, Aoba,” and “Please turn the rice cooker _on_ , Aoba.” It was hard to focus on cooking, because Aoba was finally turning his attention back to a large problem that he should have been working in fixing ever since he got here: how to make it up to Granny. 

In spite of the fact that Mink’s assertion that Aoba was running away from his problems was probably referring to their relationship, Aoba had no intention of fixing things with him. He should probably send another message to Mink saying “I’m seriously done with you, goodbye forever”, but that was a minor concern compared with the fires of Granny’s anger. What Aoba wanted most of all was – was – well, even if it was impossible, he would say it. 

Aoba wanted to go home. 

Living with Clear was fun, but Aoba thought of it as more of a vacation than anything else. Even though Clear liked having him around, Aoba knew that he was mooching again. It wasn’t that he didn’t think he was contributing to the household, because he had learnt that lesson now. No. It was that Aoba wanted to be able to support himself, to be independent. That was a necessary step to going back to Granny. If she rejected him – Aoba had to swallow back a moment of despair at the thought – he would have to have somewhere else to go. At the same time, perhaps showing her that he had changed and matured and had the pay-check to prove it would help her grant him forgiveness. 

After he finished eating, Aoba did the dishes but didn’t leave the kitchen. While Ren lay on the kitchen table, half keeping an eye on him, Aoba paced back and forth, continuing to think. There were so many odds stacked against him. How to get a job. How to get housing. He had about 500$ in merch sales, but that was just peanuts. How to get back to Midorijima – Clear would probably help, but Aoba’s stuff had outgrown the trailer again, somehow. What to do if he ran into Mink. What to do if he ran into Mizuki or, god forbid, Koujaku. How to convince Granny to see him, and what to say when he did. And where was his Bluejay career in all of this? Was Aoba capable of maintaining his music and a full-time job? Was Aoba capable of any of this?

Mink didn’t think so, but Mink was wrong. Fuck him. 

By the time the sun had risen to its noontime peak, Aoba was starting to get tired from all the pacing. He sat down at the kitchen table, rested his chin on his hands, and sat nose-to-nose with Ren. 

“Did you come to any conclusions?” Ren said, opening his eyes and touching his little black nose to the tip of Aoba’s own. Aoba smiled tiredly, reaching out and resting one hand on the soft fur of Ren’s back. 

“Yeah,” Aoba said. “I know what I have to do now.”

“And…?” Ren prompted. Aoba sighed. 

“I’m going to find a job on Midorijima, and then I’m going to go work at it until I make enough money to live on my own,” Aoba said. “Then I’m going to go see Granny and beg her to let me live with her again. What do you think?”

Ren thought about it for a moment, blinking and unconsciously sticking his pink tongue out as he did sometimes. “By Midorijima, do you mean Platinum Jail?” he asked. 

“Huh?” said Aoba, completely confused as to how Platinum Jail could come into any of this. 

“It would make logical sense for you to find work as a DJ or musician, since your songs are so well known,” Ren said. “Don’t you want to capitalise on that?”

“Ren!” Aoba exclaimed, sitting upright. “That’s genius!”

Ren gave him a flat look that said, ‘you thought for three hours and didn’t come up with that on your own?’ but Aoba didn’t mind. 

“I’m going to do it,” Aoba said. “I don’t know how, but maybe Noiz can help me.”

Ren nodded. “And Clear?”

Ah yes, Clear. Although Aoba wanted Clear’s support, he didn’t feel ready to tell him about his new plan just yet, so he shook his head. “Let’s tell him after I find a job,” Aoba said. 

“And Koujaku?”

“Ren - !” Aoba started. 

_And Koujaku…_

Yes, Aoba had been avoiding thinking about him, too. But it was just – Aoba swallowed. 

“Aoba,” Ren said, in a ‘I’m not taking your shit today’ kind of voice. But of course, Ren had been watching him pine over Koujaku for longer than anyone else.

“I –” Aoba started. Unbidden, Koujaku’s beautiful, caring face rose to Aoba’s mind. Koujaku had always used to tell Aoba, “Makeru na” – don’t give up. It wasn’t just Koujaku’s hands and his lips and his eyes. It was his compassion, his thoughtfulness, his dependability. It was the way Aoba had always thought of him as a hero. And there was no point in resisting it anymore.

“Fine,” Aoba muttered, mostly to himself. “I want to see Koujaku.” It came out as a murmur, and Aoba bowed his head at the end of the sentence. 

“So you’ll talk to him?” Ren said gently, but Aoba shook his head. 

“No! No. Not yet. I don’t want him to take pity on me and offer me a place to stay,” Aoba said. Maybe it was a weak justification, but he needed time to plan out how the reunion would go - and how best to confess. Because Aoba was sick of pining over Koujaku from this far away. Even if it went badly, Aoba would be a coward if he didn’t say anything, and he didn’t know if he could live with that. Aoba couldn’t imagine what Koujaku must think of him now, after running away from his family and living with a horrible man and then running away again to the mainland. But oh, he hoped that Koujaku could be generous enough to forgive him. Please.

“I’m proud of you,” Ren said abruptly, standing up and wagging his tail. “It used to be that I was afraid you might chose to spend the rest of your life with Mink. I see now that I, too, was completely mistaken.”

“Poor Ren,” Aoba said, interpreting Ren’s words to mean ‘I’m really glad we left Mink and I didn’t have to watch you suffer for the rest of your life.’ “I didn’t mean to put you through that.”

Even thinking that Aoba’s life was going to be horrible, even with the danger to himself Ren had stayed by Aoba’s side, as he always promised to do. Aoba definitely didn’t deserve such a friend.

“It’s okay,” Ren said, sounding a trifle embarrassed. 

“C’mere, you.” Aoba scooped Ren up into his arms. Thank goodness that conversation was over. “Let’s go make some music.” 

Still carrying Ren, Aoba left the kitchen and headed for the front door. As he crossed the sunlit yard, Aoba thought to himself, _I will go back to Midorijima. I will get a job. I will see Granny again. And I will confess to Koujaku. I will! I will!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Makeru na = Japanese for "don't give up", Koujaku's catchphrase basically
> 
> I don't know why I was dumb and didn't just combine this chapter with the last one... The thing about updating slowly still stands. Sorry guys.
> 
> Also I just edited the tags on this fic and there’s no tag for Koujaku interacting with Sei except for Beast Koujaku, which is weird as fuck. Also you'll notice that Koujaku & Mizuki has appeared, because they ended up interacting more in this fic than I thought they would. I totally didn't plan to write Mizuki coming out. It just kinda happened.
> 
> Please feel free to comment!!!


	16. Weeds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for transphobia against Sei.

[ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4IXhYf4yxJQ)

Mink sat on the coffee table in his living room, shoulders hunched over his steepled palms. Two and a half months since Aoba had left, and what his worthless transvestite brother had said still held true. There was neither hide nor hair of him to be found on Midorijima. Of course, Scratch had limited access to Platinum Jail, but so did Aoba, so Mink had discounted it as a possibility from the start. 

Since Aoba had left, Mink had checked and rechecked the apartment for clues as to his possible whereabouts. The pile of crap he had had the nerve to leave on the floor was totally useless, as was the note. Mink still had that note. It was pinned to the wall with a knife, exactly where Mink had left it two months ago. Every so often, Mink would read it again and wish Aoba were there in front of him so he could backhand him across the face. If there was one thing Mink hated about Aoba’s face, it was how pathetic it always looked. No matter how many times he tried to fix it, it always looked at him the goddamn same.

And yet, Aoba had had the guts, had had the nerve, to up and leave like it was just nothing. Somehow. Not that Mink thought Aoba himself had been calling the shots right then, oh no. This was probably just a repeat of before. Before, when Aoba had been using that devil’s magic crap to brainwash people and break their minds. Then, Mink had solved the problem by beating it out of him. There was nothing to it, really. This time it would be exactly the same. 

Mink reached down into his pocket, felt a small, jagged object. There was something he had recently discovered that might lead him back to Aoba, oh yes. Weeks of thinking, and this was the result. It was something Aoba had left not in the living room, but in that stupid closet he was always faffing around in, with his stupid computer and his stupid robot dog. Mink hadn’t thought to check in until that very morning. But oh, the result it had yielded. 

Mink knew what if he had to do now. If he couldn’t find Aoba in the real world, he would find him online. 

He opened his fist and gazed down at a handful of broken piano keys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sandy Weeds is from Mink's bad end (where he cuts Aoba's head off). It's appropriate for this chapter because Mink is "headhunting". Geddit????


	17. The Monocle

Well, it was done, although it had taken all summer to finish. That song that Aoba had started, two nights before he left Mink – the one for Koujaku, the one Aoba hoped that Koujaku would like, even if he didn’t like a single other thing Aoba had ever written. It didn’t have a title, it was three AM, and Aoba had probably given himself carpal tunnel syndrome from all the editing on it. But it was done. 

[ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EapxGkiaK60)

Replaying the song, Aoba smiled to himself. “Koujaku” was a mix of traditional and contemporary instruments, which somehow managed to blend together to make one badass whole, much like Koujaku himself. The hardest part had been finding that balance, right after the part where Aoba hadn’t permitted himself to work on it consciously for most of the summer. Now all that was left was to post it, and Aoba’s fingers flew over the keys as he typed up the description. 

_This song is Prince Redbird’s theme. This is the song that Bluejay spent the most time learning how to sing. With Cockatiel gone, Bluejay has been in mourning, but this song helps him forget how lonely he is. This song makes the forest look bright again. Bluejay can only hope that Redbird will one day come and sing it with him._

Aoba reached for the ‘post’ button, but something stilled his hand. Although the song and the description were perfect, he found himself reluctant to put them on the internet. Usually Aoba only got this feeling when the song was bad, but this was probably the best thing he had ever written. Something about showing this song to several thousand strangers before showing it to Koujaku just felt wrong. Redbird was Koujaku, but it wasn’t the same. Aoba turned to ask Ren what he thought, but Ren was in self-induced sleep mode on a pink cushion beside him, and had been for some time now. 

Right… 3AM. Stretching his arms over his head, Aoba yawned widely, then slumped in his chair. Never mind about all this, Aoba decided, sending the song to drafts instead of to post. He was ready to go to sleep now, but Aoba liked checking his messages, his follower count, and the sales from the store before he went to bed. At last check, he had made about 250$ in merch, which was pocket change compared to the amount of money he needed to be making, but better than the haul from the donation box. The follower count had only gone up by a handful of people since that morning, because the last finished song Aoba had posted had been about five days ago. That one had been a pretty chill song inspired by Aoba’s evening wanderings around Clear’s house. 

Finally, Aoba pulled up his email inbox, a little nervously. Since he’d started making inquiries to clubs and bars in Platinum Jail, he’d gotten at least eight emails politely telling him ‘thanks for offering, but your music sucks so please seek work elsewhere.’ Or if that wasn’t the reason, it was that they already had enough musicians, he didn’t really fit their image, or they didn’t consider him popular enough to be worth hiring. Whatever. Platinum Jail was basically one giant party, and there were at least 20 more clubs on the list of places Aoba had already tried mailing. 

Now there was a new email from some place called the Monocle, a “club-concert fusion” of dubious quality. Probably they didn’t want him because he wasn’t new age enough or something. Still, might as well read it now. 

_Dear Seragaki-san,_  
_Thank you for your interest in the Monocle. We have recently had a vacancy in our line-up, so we are considering you as a potential replacement. Please contact us to discuss details if you are still interested in this position._

Aoba could hardly believe it. Could it really be that easy? They just wanted to hire him? Even tired as he was, his spirits soared. At the end of the email was a phone number to call. Aoba might have considered dialling it right then and there, except for the time and the fact that he wanted to be prepared for the conversation. This was an opportunity, and he couldn’t afford to mess this up. 

“Ren! Psst, hey, Ren,” Aoba said, poking Ren in the side. Unlike Aoba, Ren was really good at waking up at a moment’s notice. 

“What is it?” Ren said, clicking into alert mode almost instantaneously. 

“I got a job offer!” Aoba said, still sort-of whispering loudly. In the calm, dark shed, it only felt right. 

“Congratulations,” Ren said, then looked around suspiciously at the darkened windows and the monitor sitting in its pool of cool blue light. “What time is it?”

Not feeling in the mood for a lecture about his sleeping habits, Aoba grinned sheepishly and powered down the computer. “No time. Bedtime. Let’s go,” Aoba said, scooping Ren up. 

Outside, the air was calm and still warm from the day’s heat. The darkened sky was filled with stars, and Aoba looked skyward as he crossed the yard back to the house. He was really going to miss this peaceful place. 

\---

The next day, Aoba woke up after Clear had already left for work. He made and ate breakfast, went out to the shed, and called the number in the email from last night. It only occurred to Aoba after some guy picked up and seemed unreasonably charmed with his voice that if he really wanted this job, he could just use Scrap to get it. But as soon as the idea occurred to Aoba, he pushed it aside. He wanted to do this whole thing right – getting a job, moving to Platinum Jail, seeing Granny and Sei again, seeing Koujaku. No cheating, no shortcuts. No Scrap, even if it was tempting. 

Fortunately, the man who Aoba spoke with – who turned out to be the manager – seemed perfectly enthusiastic about hiring Aoba. It seemed that there was normally a roster of five DJs who worked at this club, but one of them had recently quit to go work in Tokyo. If Aoba was hired, he’d be working five five-hour slots a week, plus one two and a half hour performance on the weekends. Normal DJ gigs weren’t so intensive, but apparently day and night were the same in Platinum Jail, so the club had to be open and playing music 24/7. 

As a starting gig went, it was amazing. Aoba was very aware of the fact that he never would have gotten it if he hadn’t already built up his reputation on the internet. The manager wanted Aoba to advertise on his Ensou account that he would be at the Monocle, which was fine by Aoba since nobody he knew in real life had put two and two together about his identity yet. The call concluded with a promise to prepare a contract and start pay negotiations soon. Maybe it was stupid of Aoba to take the first job that came his way, but this one seemed really good. There was always time to back out if the contract was no good. Plus, now that Aoba had a real goal he wanted to get started on it as soon as possible. 

After he hung up the phone, he spent a few hours drafting some more music. Finally, Clear came home at around 5:30, and Aoba went inside to help him prepare dinner. The two of them working together settled into an easy rhythm, Aoba working on the main dish while Clear set the table and got all of the accompanying foods like pickles and rice. As they cooked, Clear told Aoba about his day – one of his coworkers had asked him to go drinking with them that Friday. Clear didn’t care much for alcohol, he said, but he was excited to hang out with everybody. As far as Aoba could tell, Clear really wanted to be friends with his coworkers but was a little shy to try. This was the first time anybody had asked Clear to do anything with them without prompting, so Aoba congratulated Clear. 

“I have some good news too,” Aoba said, smiling though he was a little nervous to know how Clear would react to the fact that Aoba was leaving. 

“Oh, I’m so glad!” Clear said enthusiastically, as he added water to the rice cooker. “What is it, Ao-san?”

“I got a job offer,” Aoba said, keeping his attention fixed on the sharp knife and the fish in his hands. He didn’t see what expression Clear was making, but he could still hear the smile in Clear’s voice as he spoke again.

“Where? In town?” Clear asked, and Aoba shook his head. 

“No… on Midorijima,” Aoba said, hands slicing in a steady, unbroken rhythm. “In a club called the Monocle.”

“A club…” Clear echoed, and Aoba set the knife down and turned to face him. Clear was frowning, his eyebrows drawn together in concern. “Ao-san… you want to go back to Midorijima? Why?” Clear hesitated, then sighed. “Please tell me you’re not going back to see Cockatiel…”

Okay, Aoba hadn’t been expecting that reasoning, but it pissed him off. “Of course not, that guy’s an asshole,” Aoba said angrily, and Clear’s forehead smoothed out a little, though he still looked sad. But then Clear looked up, with a gentle smile on his lips and compassion in his face, just like always. 

“I’m happy for you,” Clear said, and Aoba heaved an internal sigh of relief. “You’ll be able to see your brother again, right?”

Crossing the kitchen, Clear set the pickle plate down on the table and then went over to the refrigerator. Aoba’s eyes followed his back for a moment, and then Aoba shrugged and turned back to the food he was preparing on the counter. 

“Yes, but not right away,” Aoba explained. “I’m not going back to where I used to live. I’m going to Platinum Jail, which is this fancy party town where rich people go.”

“Is that the place behind the large white wall?” Clear said, closing the fridge and putting a few containers down on the counter. “I wondered what that was.”

If it wasn’t Aoba’s imagination, Clear didn’t seem to be as happy about learning a new fact as he usually was. But if Clear didn’t straight out say that he was upset, Aoba was hesitant to offend by asking why when Clear was trying so hard to hide it. 

“Yes, that’s Platinum Jail,” Aoba said. “Um, I don’t know when I’m leaving or how I’ll get there, though.”

“Oh, I’ll drive you,” Clear said, turning to Aoba with a genuine smile, which was relieving. “We can rent a motorcycle trailer again, don’t worry.”

Aoba was a little worried, because he thought he might have outgrown the trailer again, and this time it wasn’t with useless things like lamps. He’d bought a lot of summer clothing because it was hot as balls in that shed in the summer, and all of the stuff he had had in the apartment with Mink was for winter and early spring. It seemed a little wasteful to just leave all of it behind, especially when Clear was taller than him and had never worn a pair of shorts in his life anyway. 

“You know what?” Aoba said, and Clear looked at him expectantly. “I’m going to try and get your car fixed.”

“Please don’t waste your time on that,” Clear said hastily. “I am uncertain as to whether or not it actually can be fixed.”

The table was mostly set now, so Clear sat down there as Aoba put the fish in the frying pan and was forced to turn his back to Clear. 

“We won’t know until we have someone look at it,” Aoba said. Would fixing the car probably cost a lot of time and money? Yes. But maybe this was part of Aoba’s attempt to redeem himself. Clear had hosted him all summer and paid for the vast majority of the food, after all. Maybe it would even be a small task that Aoba could do himself. Unlikely, since he knew far more about electronics and general house maintenance than engines. But why not try? 

There was a small hitch in Clear’s throat as he answered quietly. “Thank you, Ao-san.” 

The sizzle of frying oil filled the kitchen, and the perfume of well-cooked fish rose up to fill the silence between their facing backs. 

“Have you told Ruff Rabbit-san and Mizuki-san yet?” Clear said finally. 

“Only Ren knows,” Aoba said, taking the fish off the stove and setting it on the table. Clear’s face was schooled into a carefully blank mask, and Aoba wondered with a jolt if this was what he looked like to strangers. 

“Thank you for the food,” Clear said as Aoba sat down. 

“No problem, you helped,” Aoba said, peering at Clear’s face in concern, but Clear’s expression didn’t change. Aoba picked up his chopsticks and started eating in silence. A few moments later, Clear asked if Aoba would want to stop off at the beach on the way to Midorijima, to which Aoba replied “Of course.” After that, they fell into their regular light and easy banter, with Aoba telling Clear about the songs he had been working on and Clear giving Aoba the state of the sea urchins at work. Still, Aoba couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. If only he could find out what before it was too late.

After dinner, Clear and Aoba logged into their respective chat clients, though sitting side-by-side. They had done this with Noiz before, but never in the full group chat with Mizuki too.

 **SlyBlue:** Hey guys I have news.  
**mizu_hi:** good news?  
**SlyBlue:** Yeah I guess it’s good.  
**RuffRabbit:** well what is it then  
**SlyBlue:** I’m going back to Midorijima.

From out of the corner of his eye, Aoba saw Clear frown when that message popped up on his screen. Ah, shit. 

**RuffRabbit:** tell me it’s not go to back to your shitty ex boyfriend, please  
**SlyBlue:** OMG of course not why does everybody think that?  
**RuffRabbit:** just checking to see if I was going to have to do some arguing with your ass, that’s all  
**RuffRabbit:** thanks for not putting both of us through that  
**RuffRabbit:** where is Clear? does he know?  
**Crystal_Jelly:** I am here! I am sad that Blue-san is leaving. But I know it will be for the best, so I am happy for him.

Although Aoba didn’t doubt that Clear was being honest, he knew that wasn’t the whole story. Still, it was reassuring to know that Clear was actually happy for him. Whatever negative emotion he was feeling was clearly overwhelming Clear’s normal positivity, that was all. 

**mizu_hi:** r u all set up w accommodations n everything  
**RuffRabbit:** yeah, are you gainfully employed yet? because I don’t want you to turn into a hobo after all the work we did to keep you off the streets  
**SlyBlue:** You mean after all the work *Clear* did.  
**RuffRabbit:** oh, I just got roasted  
**Crystal_Jelly:** RuffRabbit-san helped a lot too!  
**RuffRabbit:** thank you, Clear

“I didn’t mean that,” Aoba said to Clear, who laughed. 

“You and Ruff Rabbit-san are very funny,” Clear said. “I don’t understand why you are friends at all. But you are friends. That’s amazing.”

Aoba smiled.

 **RuffRabbit:** now answer the question, Sly  
**SlyBlue:** I got offered a job but they haven’t given me the contract yet. Also I don’t know what I’m going to do for housing I don’t know a thing about the geography of Platinum Jail.  
**mizu_hi:** woah woah  
**mizu_hi:** ur gonna b working in pj thats so crazy  
**mizu_hi:** i dont know anyone whos actually been there before its so expensive

Forget going there, Aoba didn’t even know how to get in, but that was another problem for later.

 **SlyBlue:** Me neither. The annoying thing about it is that it’s all ID based so I hope their security is good because Cockatiel is still looking for me.  
**RuffRabbit:** you just love dropping these important and incredibly relevant facts in the most casual way possible, don’t you

Oops.

 **mizu_hi:** u know if u tell us who he is we can keep an eye on him for u  
**SlyBlue:** Haha thanks but you’ve probably never met him before. Don’t worry about me I know how to defend myself.  
**RuffRabbit:** uh huh  
**mizu_hi:** hey wait a min  
**mizu_hi:** i know a guy w connections to pj police u wanna meet him  
**mizu_hi:** hes a fan too  
**SlyBlue:** Thanks but I don’t think it’s necessary.  
**Crystal_Jelly:** It sounds like a good idea to me, Blue-san. The police can be very helpful in bad situations. Why not meet him just in case?  
**RuffRabbit:** yeah, seconded. where he at

Okay, Aoba was officially very annoyed. Clear, Noiz, and Mizuki were all acting like he couldn’t take care of himself. Of course, they didn’t know how powerful the Scrap he didn’t want to use was, nor that Aoba could hold his own in pretty much any kind of fight. But still, didn’t they think he had enough sense to call the police on his own in case of emergency? And what was Mizuki playing at, bringing in another outsider? 

*****mizu_hi has invited Kansuzume to join the conversation*****

Clear turned to Aoba, frowning. “Do you know who that is?” he said. 

It took Aoba a moment to place the name Kansuzume. Then he realised that it was the name of that guy who had left that long, sad message saying he identified with Redbird and thank you to Aoba for giving him hope. So Mizuki was doing a favour for a friend, which was just like him. 

“I think I’m probably already friends with him,” Aoba said wryly, thinking that Kansuzume must be a member of Dry Juice. He wasn’t sure who, though. Dry Juice was a big team, after all. Several minutes passed, during which Aoba wondered if Kansuzume was busy or just shy. 

**Kansuzume:** Hello, Bluejay-san, RuffRabbit-san, Crystal_Jelly-san. Mizuki says I can be of assistance to you.  
**Crystal_Jelly:** Nice to meet you!  
**SlyBlue:** Nice to see you again.  
**mizu_hi:** kansuzu ur friends w a guy who knows a guy who works in the pj police right  
**Kansuzume:** Yes, I do.  
**RuffRabbit:** we just want to know if you can get that guy to get the police to fuck shit up on our behalf if shit hits the fan  
**Kansuzume:** Excuse me?  
**RuffRabbit:** someone else explain  
**SlyBlue:** Cockatiel the guy I write songs about is a real guy who exists and is an asshole. Right now he’s trying to find me and my friends are worried about it.  
**mizu_hi:** we were hoping u n ur friend who knows the police in pj can help us if sthg bad happens  
**SlyBlue:** This is so unnecessary you guys. No offense Kansuzume I just don’t think we need to get the police involved.  
**RuffRabbit:** we’re not going to unless it’s necessary. you should always have a contingency plan, so stop whining. you’re being rude to Kansuzume  
**Kansuzume:** Not at all, and I would be happy to assist.

Interestingly enough, Kansuzume’s voice over chat wasn’t particularly distinctive. Aoba wondered if he didn’t IM or text much, or if he was just nervous to be talking directly to Sly Blue and his friends. He was also very polite, which made Aoba feel a little bad about wanting to reject his help. It wasn’t Kansuzume’s fault Aoba’s friends were like this. Aoba would probably send him a Redbird keychain or something after this conversation was over. 

**mizu_hi:** told u he was good  
**RuffRabbit:** you never actually said that  
**mizu_hi:** i did now  
**SlyBlue:** So how exactly is this going to work?  
**RuffRabbit:** simple. you just need a way to contact Kansuzume in the event of emergency, just like you would any of us. must I do everything for you people  
**Kansuzume:** I get alerts from my Ensou account and from eChats, so as long as you message me through either of those, you’ll be able to reach me at any time.  
**SlyBlue:** Okay I got it thanks.  
**Crystal_Jelly:** Thank you very much, Kansuzume-san. We appreciate it.  
**Kansuzume:** It’s my pleasure.  
**RuffRabbit:** okay, any other problems that need to be solved  
**SlyBlue:** Definitely not!

Aoba typed quickly, before anyone got any ideas. 

**RuffRabbit:** again with the ingratitude  
**mizu_hi:** when r u coming to pj  
**SlyBlue:** I don’t know that yet either. I’m going to get the contract in the next few days and then we’ll see when they want me to start.  
**Crystal_Jelly:** We still have a lot of things to do! We have to pack, fix the car, go to the beach, and I don’t know what else…  
**RuffRabbit:** we can just pick up this conversation again later  
**SlyBlue:** Good idea. Thanks everyone for your help I guess…  
**RuffRabbit:** get out of here

Aoba laughed at Noiz’s closing salutation, then said “Goodbye” and closed the IM app. He was about to get up and leave the kitchen table, when he saw that Clear was looking sad again. If this was what it was going to be like until Aoba left, he really, really didn’t want to deal with it. Unfortunately, the only way to find out what Clear was really thinking was to ask.

Telling himself to just get it over with, Aoba looked straight at Clear’s face and said, “Clear, what’s wrong?”

“Um,” Clear started, like he was about to deny his obvious unhappiness. But as Aoba didn’t look away, Clear sighed and dropped eye contact. “Ao-san, I’m sorry. I am very happy for you, I truly am. I wish I could be more excited about you leaving. But… it just seems like there were so many things I wanted to do with you, and we have done hardly any of them. I just wish… I wish we had more time.”

“We’ll go to the beach, like I promised,” Aoba said, gears in his mind turning as he thought of other ways to make this better. “Clear, you don’t think I’m not going to visit you, do you?”

Clear’s mouth rounded in an o of surprise. “You will visit me, Ao-san?” he said. 

“Or you can visit me,” Aoba said reassuringly. “Or when I go back to see my family again, you can come meet my brother in person.”

Was this really Clear’s fear? That Aoba wouldn’t want to see him again? Did Clear think that Aoba had just been using him for a place to stay all this time? Aoba might have been angry if he had been able to understand anything of what was going on. Well, whatever weird things Clear was thinking, Aoba was his friend, and it was obvious that Clear needed some reassuring. 

“Thank you,” Clear said, face breaking out into a joyous smile. “I knew you were a real friend!”

“Um,” said Aoba.

“And I can’t wait to visit you,” Clear continued. “You can come back to visit me any time, Ao-san, I promise.”

Clear was still beaming when Aoba left him in the kitchen doing the dishes ten minutes later. Boy, Clear sure was weird.

\---

The next day, Aoba sent Kansuzume a discount code for a Redbird keychain, then went into town to find someone to look at Clear’s derelict car. Soon the contract came in from the manager of the Monocle, and Aoba found himself amenable to it. They wanted him to start work in pretty short notice – a week, since their other two DJs were working overtime to compensate for the one who had quit – but by that time Aoba had already gotten the results back on the car and knew he would make it in time. As it turned out, the engine itself was fine. The problem was a disconnected wire somewhere that was draining the battery. Of course, it would cost something like 600$ to get it fixed, but Aoba could take it, especially knowing what his new salary would be. 

As for the beach, Aoba brought it up with Clear, but Clear just said he “had plans” and to be patient. So instead, Aoba did things like clean his room, start packing things, and try to figure out how the heck to get into Platinum Jail. After a back-and-forth exchange of emails with his soon-to-be boss, he found out that it was supposed to be impossible to get into Platinum Jail from anywhere other than the airport… so they would have to drive around the wall of Platinum Jail to get to the airport at the back. Freakin’ rich people and their freakin’ airport. The ferry which permitted cars left the mainland at 12:00 every day, so Aoba estimated they’d arrive at Platinum Jail at around 3:30PM. After that, they would have to be let into Platinum Jail through the non-guest entrance, then make their way over to where Aoba would be staying. 

The question of housing had also been mostly resolved by some conversations with Aoba’s new boss. In Platinum Jail, the guests got to stay in various different kinds of fancy housing depending on the length of their stay, the amount of money they paid, and the district they were staying in. But the personnel who actually worked there were all crammed into some grungy residential district like a colony of salaried lepers. Aoba could only choose from among the apartments in somewhere called “Glitter”, which was a stupid-sounding name, but at least the rent wasn’t horrible. Aoba chose the cheapest possible apartment, one in the middle of the district but near a good curry restaurant, according to the internet. 

There was only one notable incident from the week before Aoba left. It came when he was cleaning out the shed, on the day before he was due to leave. Clear had requested that Aoba be completely packed by that evening, just in case, so Aoba was carefully packing his computer into a cardboard box with some jeans as padding. As Aoba was trying to stuff the end of a pant-leg into the top corner of the box, Clear appeared in the door of the shed with a pair of briefs in his hand. 

“Ao-san, I found these under the bed. Where would you like me to put them?” Clear said. 

“Um,” Aoba said, a little weirded out by Clear just holding a pair of his underwear like it was any other piece of clothing. “Just, I’ll take it. Here.”

As he held out his hand, Clear took a step into the shed and looked at the rainbow light-catcher which was still hanging over the window. 

“Are you going to take that with you?” Clear said, ignoring Aoba’s dangling hand. It hadn’t even occurred to Aoba that he could take the sun catcher. Clear’s grandpa had made it – how could Aoba just help himself to something like that?

“It’s very nice, but it belongs to you,” Aoba said, catching the end of the briefs with his index finger and trying to hook them surreptitiously out of Clear’s hand. Noticing this, Clear let go and Aoba caught them before they dropped to the none-to-clean floor. No matter how many times he swept this place, it always seemed to accumulate dust like there was no tomorrow. Another task for later. 

Still looking at the suncatcher, Clear said, “I think I would like you to have it. So please take it with you.”

Aoba almost reached out to take it, before realising he was still holding the underwear in one hand. 

“Um, thanks,” Aoba said instead, pretending like he had been meaning to stiffly contemplate the suncatcher with his fists at his sides all along. All awkwardness aside, Clear’s gesture wasn’t lost on him. Clear was giving Aoba something precious to him, something that would make Aoba think of the time he had spent with Clear. Something that would hopefully remind him to come back one day, not that Aoba needed the reminder. 

"Thank you," Aoba said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Koujaku is from the anime OST. Isn't it awesome?
> 
> FYI, I named The Monocle after Toue. What a pretentious loser.
> 
> Comments and questions always welcome!!


	18. Good Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to talk about ~real places~ in this chapter, which may seem to be out of nowhere, but Aoba _is_ in Shizuoka...

“Psst. Psst, hey. Ao-san. Ao-san, wake up. Wake up!”

With a reluctant groan, Aoba rolled over and opened his eyes. The room was still completely dark, a shaft of actual moonlight poking through the window and stabbing across the bedspread. Clear was standing there, fully dressed, looking far too excited and pleased than he had the right to at an hour like this.

“’Sgoin’ on,” Aoba mumbled, shoving his face into the pillow.

“Get up!” Clear said quietly but excitedly. When Aoba didn’t move, Clear reached over and tapped the top of Ren’s head to wake him, eliciting a feeble whine of protest from Aoba as he felt Ren stir beside him.

“Ren-san, please tell Aoba to get up,” Clear said, stepping respectfully away from the bed and putting his hands behind his back.

“Get up,” Ren ordered.

“You traitor,” Aoba muttered, and Ren shoved his cold nose against Aoba’s cheek. Sitting up with a yelp, Aoba glanced at his Coil and saw, to his horror, that it was 3:15 in the morning.

“Clear, it’s 3AM,” Aoba said, trying for an angry tone but coming out more whiny than he had intended.

“Yes, I know,” Clear said, not sounding the least bit upset about it. In fact, he was bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet in excitement. Aoba wanted to throw a pillow at him. “Don’t worry, Ao-san, you can sleep in the car. Just get up!”

Aoba took a deep breath and shoved his face into his hands, trying to manage a semblance of rational thought. It took a few moments, but the obvious question finally bubbled to the surface of his mind. “Where are we going?”

“Midorijima!”

“It’s three AM! The ferry doesn’t leave until noon!” Aoba said in disbelief. Meanwhile, Ren was nudging Aoba’s side repeatedly with one paw, and that was getting really distracting and annoying. If only Aoba could just think, but his head felt so foggy…

“I know,” Clear said in a sing-song voice. “Here, I put some clothes out for you. Come on, just trust me.”

Aoba really, really wanted to just roll over and go back to bed, but he was so tired he didn’t even have the will to fight for it. With another deep sigh of surrender, he rolled out of bed, nearly losing his balance and pitching headfirst into the wall before he could stop himself. Clear grabbed Aoba’s arm and hauled him back upright, patted him on the shoulder, and practically danced out of the room. With him gone, the room felt a little darker and a little colder.

Still in the dark, Aoba got dressed fumblingly and slowly, putting things on backwards and inside out until Ren gently corrected him. He didn’t even know what he was wearing at the end of it all; Clear could have dressed him in a magical girl sailor suit and he wouldn’t have known the difference. All of his other stuff seemed to have completely disappeared from the room. Finally, Aoba stumbled out the door with Ren at his heels, to find Clear waiting in the kitchen.

“Do you have everything?” Clear said.

“I dunno where everything _is_ ,” Aoba said, gesturing vaguely behind him.

“Oh, I put everything in the car already. I was wondering if you were fully dressed and had remembered Ren and your Coil,” Clear explained.

Ren peeked his head out from behind Aoba’s leg and said solemnly, “I am here.”

“Good,” said Clear. “Let’s go!”

Still in a daze, Aoba followed Clear out to the car. He made a move to get into the passenger side, but Clear opened the door to the backseat and gestured for Aoba to sit there instead. Inside, Clear had laid out some pillows and blankets for Aoba. Gratefully, Aoba clambered inside and lay down, while Ren jumped in and curled up on the floor. As Clear got inside and started the engine, its soothing rumble instantly lulled Aoba back to sleep.

\---

The next time Aoba woke, it was a slow, gentle waking. He became aware of how warm he was, how comfortable. Although the back of the car wasn’t very big, having two seats to himself was just enough for it to be cosy and not cramped. The rumble of the engine was growing quieter now, and Aoba opened his eyes to see the back of the seat in front of him, Ren sleeping on the floor, and Clear putting the car into park.

The engine cut off, and Clear turned to see Aoba blinking sleepily up at him.

“We’re here,” Clear said, a pleasant lilt to his voice. Aoba sat up, and found that they were in a parking lot beside what appeared to be a closed souvenir stand. Checking the time, Aoba found that it was around 5:30 AM, so the drive had taken them two hours.

“Where’s here?” Aoba said, looking out the windshield and seeing what looked like a pine-wood forest.

Clear smiled. “This is the beach.”

Of course, Aoba should have known. But why were there trees? And why, for the love of god, had they gotten up at 3AM just to drive here? The beach near Clear’s house was less than half an hour away.

“We’d better leave Ren here. We don’t want to get sand in him,” Clear said, getting out of the car. This early in the morning, the air was fairly cool, and Aoba caught the scents of pine and sea floating in through the open door. So it was true – they were by the ocean.

Ren was still in sleep mode, so Aoba draped a blanket over him and clambered out of his comfortable nest. The whole world seemed still, in that quiet moment before dawn when every human was asleep. Aoba could still count every star shining down on them, and the half-moon hanging at the edge of the horizon burnished the ground in pale silver. As Clear opened the trunk and took out a backpack, Aoba breathed in deeply and thought maybe getting up this early hadn’t been so bad after all.

“Let’s go,” Clear said, clearly very excited to be here. Aoba followed him out of the parking lot and into the trees, up a set of shallow slate stairs. Most of the pines were as thick around as Aoba’s torso, spaced out a fair distance from each other with sparse ground cover, save for a thick carpeting of spent orange needles. The path seemed to have been cut out of the hill, the bank of earth beside them held back with a piled rock wall. At the top of the hill, the path curved to the left, the ground levelling out and the path narrowing slightly. This was a well-cultivated forest, scattered with the occasional information panel, and Aoba had the feeling that if he were there during the day he might have been a little underwhelmed. But at night, with moonlight streaming through the needles above and their own footsteps the loudest sound around, it was incredible.

It was then that Aoba realised he could hear the sound of softly-crashing waves, and looked over to his right. There, through an opening in the trees, he saw it – the ocean.

“Clear-kun, look,” Aoba said, and pointed.

Turning to see, Clear sighed. “Ah,” he said peacefully. "It's beautiful."

A beat later, Clear grinned. “Let’s go!”

“What?” Aoba said, but Clear had already left the path and was heading directly for the water. “Hey – wait!” Aoba called, but Clear only looked back for a moment and laughed. Aoba hastened to follow him, realising only when his foot touched the earth that the trees weren’t growing out of dirt – they were growing out of sand, fine black sand, still carpeted in pine needles. Clear started running and Aoba chased after.

"Hey! Come back here!"

Aoba yelled, but he was laughing. Clear came to a stop in the middle of the beach, broad and shining and empty as it was.

“We’re here, Ao-san!” Clear shouted, his voice ringing out louder than the rushing waves. Still laughing, Aoba reached him, playfully grabbing him around the shoulders.

"You little -" Aoba started, with fond irritation as Clear slipped out from under his arm.

"Come on, look," Clear said, gesturing at the ocean. The rolling waves were gentle, the tide low. The moon was behind the trees, now, but there were faint lights reflecting off of the water. It was just as beautiful as the pinewood had been.

“Where are we?” Aoba said, and then a thought popped into his head. “Is this Miho no Matsubara?”

Clear turned to Aoba, his wondering face lit not by the moon, but from within. “Yes, how did you know?”

“This place is famous,” Aoba said, turning around to face the trees. Somewhere out there in the dark, Mount Fuji should be rising over the pines. Sei had once done a school project about Hagoromo, a tragic play about Miho no Matsubara, which was why Aoba knew anything about this place. It was supposedly so beautiful that a celestial spirit had descended from the heavens and danced here. But even though Aoba had heard of it, he had never imagined he would ever come here. Maybe it wasn’t pretty enough to descend from the sky for, but it was pretty enough for a 3AM drive.

When Aoba turned back to Clear, he was opening the backpack he had set down and pulling out a towel, which he spread over the sand. As Aoba watched, Clear started unlacing his shoes, then took them off and set them beside the towel. Aoba followed suit, taking off his shoes, balling up his socks, and stuffing them inside. The two of them stood barefoot on the cool, soft sand, looking out over the ocean.

“The sun will rise soon,” Clear said. “That’s why I woke you up so early. That’s okay, right?”

“As long as you don’t do it again,” Aoba said teasingly as they both sat down on the towel and watched the sky. For a moment, a comfortable silence floated between them. Even though the sound of the waves was soothing, Aoba didn’t feel sleepy anymore, but totally awake. Maybe it was the cool, salty breeze blowing in from the water.

After a while the sky began to lighten, the first fingers of dawn creeping up from behind the ocean. As Aoba watched, the blackness faded to a midnight blue. The rising sun threw out pink rays like an opening fan. Soon the sky had lightened to a pale peach on the horizon, the bright orange sun hanging just over the surface of the water. It was truly beautiful. Wondering if Clear intended to comment on it, Aoba looked over at him and saw that his face was twisted into an expression of bittersweet joy. It was as if Clear were both content and sad at the same time, like he was thinking he would never see a sunrise like this again in his entire life. Aoba sincerely hoped that none of this had anything to do with him.

“Ao-san,” Clear said without turning his head, so quiet his voice was almost lost in the lapping waves. “I want to tell you something.”

Aoba was suspicious, but he decided to hear Clear out. He nodded, hoping Clear could see it out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing. A profound calm had settled over the beach, like time had been frozen and they were the only two people who were still awake.

Softly, Clear spoke again. “When my grandpa passed away a year ago, I was very, very lonely. I am adopted like you, and I don't have any other family, so the only people I knew were the people at my work. And they were very nice, but they didn’t really know me. When I found your music, it helped me a lot because it was beautiful and exciting all at the same time. I would listen to it when I was driving to work and think about what kind of person could make a song as amazing as that. When you started replying to my comments and talking to me, I was so happy that I had the opportunity to meet you. You’re so talented and creative and amazing, but I never thought you could be such a good person, too.”

As he spoke, Clear’s voice picked up in volume and firmness until Aoba no longer had to strain to hear him. His eyes flicked to Aoba’s face, but didn’t hold his gaze, for which Aoba was grateful. All these compliments were embarrassing, and Clear’s honesty was so raw it was painful. But Aoba owed it to Clear to listen.

“Then you came here, and I – and you fixed my lights and fixed my car, and did so many other good things for me. People always said I was weird or strange, but you didn’t say anything like that. You said you liked my singing and then you made everyone on the internet like it too. It was like – it’s like you think I’m normal, like I’m not a weird or bad person. You gave me the courage to ask the people at my work if I could hang out with them, so without you I’d still be really lonely. You were my first real friend.”

Clear turned to Aoba, who could feel a lump welling up in his throat. He was scowling heavily because of it, but Clear didn’t seem to mind.

“So that’s why I brought you here,” Clear said. “To thank you.”

Aoba sniffed. Was this how Clear had been feeling the whole time? No wonder he didn’t want Aoba to leave. And Aoba hadn’t understood at all…

Before he knew what he was doing, Aoba had pulled Clear to his feet and hugged him. For a moment Clear was stunned, and Aoba feared he might have overstepped a boundary, but then Clear had wrapped his arms around Aoba’s waist and was hugging him right back.

“Thank you, Ao-san,” Clear said, sounding like he was about to cry, too. Shit. If there was one thing Aoba wanted to avoid at all costs, it was crying.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Aoba said, gingerly detaching himself from Clear’s arms. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have had anywhere to live for three months. A-and you paid for my food and stuff, too. Without you, I would have been in big trouble. So please uh, don’t cry, um…”

Sniffling very hard, Clear smiled at him with soft, bright eyes.

“And you _are_ weird,” Aoba said hastily, as a tear slipped down Clear’s cheek, “But it’s in a good way, okay? You are strange, but that’s what makes you awesome. No, don’t –”

“Ao-san is f-far too k-kind,” Clear managed to get out, and then started bawling. Awkwardly, Aoba put his arm around Clear’s shoulders and turned away from him to face the ocean again. Clear clutched the side of Aoba’s jacket and sobbed into it for a good few minutes while Aoba patted him on the shoulder and watched the waves ripple onto the soft, sandy shore.

“You know, you can just call me Ao,” Aoba said awkwardly, thinking it was a little ridiculous that Clear was still addressing him like they were strangers while crying into his jacket. This made Clear sob even more loudly. Aoba sighed internally and kept patting Clear's shoulder.

At last, after an eternity, Clear let go of Aoba’s jacket, fumbled around in his giant pockets, and produced a handkerchief. This he blew his nose into, loudly, before turning to Aoba like nothing had happened and saying, “Let’s go walk in the water. It looks nice, don’t you think, Ao?” Clear shyly added. His gemlike pink eyes were red and puffy from all the crying, the tip of his nose a little pink from being blow into the handkerchief so hard. Aoba didn’t know how he could return to a mundane topic so easily, when he, Aoba, still felt so shaken.

“Yeah, it’s getting warm,” Aoba said neutrally, inspecting the damp patch of tears on his jacket. Though the sun had risen only a little more, it was a hot August sun they were currently bathing in, and the water was clear and pristine. Deciding to dump his jacket on the towel behind them, Aoba wondered where breakfast would fit in to this little adventure.

“Come on,” Clear said, beckoning as he made his way down to the water. Picking his way around piles of white stones and following, Aoba noted that the sand was still nice and cool beneath his feet, though the ocean water was colder as it flowed around his ankles in the mellow sweep of surf. Aoba and Clear paused nearly simultaneously to roll their pant legs up to their knees.

“Aah, that’s nice,” Clear commented happily, striding out into the water and splashing so much Aoba wondered why he had even bothered to roll up his pants. As for Aoba, he followed more slowly, walking out to where the water was just below his knees. It felt like the water was caressing his legs, gently swirling around him and then pulling him out to sea.

Maybe Clear had already gotten over it, but Aoba was still fixated on the fact that Clear had just spent fifteen minutes crying into his front. It was surreal to think that Aoba could matter that much to anyone other than Sei. Not in a bad way, it was just that it was hard to understand. And Aoba didn’t really know what to do in return, but he felt like he should maybe write another song for Clear.

In a flash of self-analysis, Aoba wondered why he liked making songs for other people so much. When he realised why, he could have laughed aloud. Making songs for people was his way of saying thank you. So in a sense, he would be thanking Clear for thanking him. Now Aoba understood, and he smiled.

“Oh!” Clear said abruptly, and Aoba looked over to see him facing away from the water and back towards the pines. “Look at that!”

Aoba turned, and gasped. A mountain had risen over the pines, a vast expanse of rock capped with a crown of snow and illuminated spectacularly by the rising sun. Aoba had never seen anything like this before. The only thing comparable in his memory was the wall of Platinum Jail, which was the opposite colour but just as unreal. Because it was so far away, Mount Fuji appeared to be surrounded by a dusty tan haze, tinting its rugged slopes blue. A blue mountain, rising out of the earth and reaching all the way to the heavens… somehow, Aoba already knew a song would come out of this one day.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Clear said, awed voice matching the tone of Aoba’s thoughts.

“I can’t believe we’re here,” Aoba said honestly. “I never even though I would leave Midorijima.”

Even though the circumstances behind Aoba’s leaving Midorijima were pretty bad, to say the least, being here on this beach was an amazing feeling.

On an impulse, Aoba said, “Hey, Clear, come here.”

“Huh?” Clear said, coming to stand beside Aoba. His pants were wet up to mid-thigh, and his sleeves were wet from where he’d dipped his hands in the water, but at least he wasn’t wearing gloves like he had been on the first day they had met.

“Let’s take some pictures,” Aoba said, pulling up the camera function on his Coil. “I want to show this to Sei.”

“Ah,” Clear said, sounding delighted. “I would love to be in pictures with you, Ao-s – Ao. Thank you for the opportunity.”

Aoba laughed. After lining themselves up with the mountain in the distance, he and Clear took several pictures with Mount Fuji and the pine forest behind them. Then Aoba took a couple of pictures of the scenery – mountain, pines, beach, ocean – without either of them in them – just so he could show them to Sei later. It wasn’t very likely Sei would remember the project about Hagoromo, because he had been completely bedridden at the time and Aoba had done about 95% of the work, but Sei had never left Midorijima before. Aoba already knew his brother would react with delighted awe to seeing this place, so he sent off one picture of himself and Clear, and one of just Mount Fuji, and captioned them, “Recognise this? Miho no Matsubara. Thought you’d like it.”

“Excuse me, are you hungry?” Clear said, as Aoba hit “send”.

“Yes,” Aoba said, a little too fast. Laughing, Clear reached into his backpack and produced two boxes wrapped in prettily-tied handkerchiefs, one blue, one white.

“I brought breakfast,” Clear said, and Aoba could have hugged him all over again. “Please eat quickly, because we must be on the road in half an hour.”

“Ah, that’s too bad,” Aoba said. As he sat down on the towel again, Clear handed him the blue bento box. It turned out to contain a bunch of little sandwiches sliced into triangles with no crusts on them, and some fruit.

“Were you up all night?” Aoba exclaimed, and Clear laughed.

“I made these last night after dinner,” he explained. Even so, Aoba was impressed with the amount of work Clear had put into this outing. Here they were, on one of the most beautiful beaches in the world, eating a pre-prepared breakfast and sitting on a nice clean towel, and if that wasn’t over-preparation, Aoba didn’t know what it was.

“You’d make someone a good housewife,” Aoba said teasingly.

Instantly, Clear blushed. “Your cooking is much better than mine,” he said, and Aoba shook his head with his mouth full of sandwich.

“I’m not a housewife,” Aoba said determinedly. “I fixed the lights.”

“I don’t understand,” Clear said. “Can housewives not fix lights?”

Okay, so maybe Clear had a point, but Aoba was just fucking around to begin with. “Don’t worry about that,” Aoba said, changing the subject. “Listen, Clear. Um, thanks for bringing me here. I had a really good time.” Even if Clear had cried into Aoba’s jacket, Aoba knew it was stupid to think he could fool anyone by saying it hadn’t been an amazing experience. The night in the pines, the sunrise, the mountain behind them – all things Aoba wouldn’t have experienced if it weren’t for Clear’s generosity. And knowing how much Aoba meant to Clear – it was unsettling, but somehow made him feel warm. God, he was going to miss Clear.

“You’re welcome,” Clear said. “It was the least I could do.” Aoba munched on another sandwich triangle and tried to look nonchalant.

After that, Aoba and Clear had to double down and finish eating. Clear put both the empty bento boxes and their wrappings back into his backpack, then took out another towel so they could brush the sand off their feet. After they put their shoes on, Clear produced a large plastic bag, which he put all the sandy towels into. Finally, they stood.

“This was amazing,” Clear said, sounding very pleased with himself.

“Mmm,” said Aoba. A few white seabirds wheeled and turned over the trees. They were the last thing Aoba saw as he turned away from Miho no Matsubara.

As they walked back to the car, they passed a young couple coming up the stone steps in the opposite direction. It seemed that all the regular tourists were just now getting here, and indeed, there were more cars pulling into the parking lot as they approached.

When they got back into the car, Clear opened the door on the passenger’s side for Aoba rather than the one to the backseat.

Instead of getting in, Aoba said, “Do you want me to drive?”

Clear laughed. “Not until we get to Midorijima, but thank you. It will take us three hours to get to the ferry terminal, and I do not think you know the way. It would be better for me to drive. But please, by all means use the radio.”

Three hours… Aoba got bored easily, and he didn’t know if he could last that long. Sitting down, Aoba wondered if he should wake Ren up so that they had someone else to talk to during the long car ride. But no, there would still be a few more hours to go when they reached Midorijima, so it was better to preserve Ren’s battery, incredibly long-lasting as it was.

“I have snacks,” Clear announced as he put the car into gear. Aoba buckled his seatbelt and reached for the radio dial and started skipping through stations. As they pulled out of the parking lot, he looked out the window behind them, catching a brief glance of the pine forest behind them. Then he turned his attention back to the music and the road ahead.

The road they were travelling was, much like the one they had taken when Aoba first came to the mainland, a coastal highway. This time, the ocean was on the right instead of the left, the view blocked occasionally by cars passing in the other direction. Still, Aoba liked looking out of the window because it helped his mind drift away into thought. Mostly thoughts about the music he was going to make, the future in Platinum Jail, and occasionally his friends and family on Midorijima. Meanwhile, Clear was concentrating intently on the road, not particularly conversational. He was a very conscientious driver, which was completely unsurprising to Aoba.

After about an hour, Aoba was thoroughly bored (as predicted), so he played radio roulette for a while, asked Clear some questions about that morning’s sting operation, and got a message from Sei. It read: “Wow! That’s beautiful! Is that the place from Hagoromo? Why are you in the capital of Shizuoka?”

Aoba shot back, “Yes it’s Hagoromo I’m glad you remember. Me and Clear are on a roadtrip I’ll give you details later.”

That was the most exciting thing that happened in three hours of travel. For a while, they went inland to avoid going around the edge of the peninsula, but soon returned to the coastal highway. Aoba put the window down, got hair in his mouth, and put the window up again. He wondered if he had to pee, or if he was just bored enough to be imagining it. Clear almost ran a red light when Aoba put his feet up on the dashboard and accidentally elbowed him in the side. An eternity later, they arrived at the mainland ferry terminal. Aoba could see Midorijima in the distance out the windshield, and felt his stomach swoop in anticipation.

This time, they were taking the regular car ferry, which only ran once a day: at noon. This meant only one ticket per vehicle. No more ten-ticket fiasco like last time. Remembering it made Aoba a little sad.

Once aboard the ferry, Clear suggested they get out of the car to go look at the water again, to which Aoba enthusiastically agreed. He felt like his legs might fall off from disuse if he didn’t get out of the car right this very minute. They made it upstairs to the deck, where the metal railings were hot from baking in the sun, right as the boat started pulling away from the dock. Aoba wasn’t sure whether he wanted to watch the mainland disappear or Midorijima approaching, and settled for following Clear, who was gazing out at the watery space between the two.

“I brought lunch,” Clear chirped, as Aoba joined him at the railing. “Would you like some?”

“You really did think of everything. Yeah, that sounds great,” Aoba said, both impressed and grateful – his stomach was starting to rumble.

“Here you go,” Clear said, giving Aoba another wrapped box, this one from one of his giant pockets. Together they stood side by side, eating and looking for interesting creatures in the water. This time, as with the original trip from Midorijima to the Mainland, they were pretty unsuccessful.

Aoba was getting a little bored when around midway across, Clear pointed up and said, “Look!”

Following Clear’s pointing hand, Aoba saw a large white bird with a truly impressive wingspan circling overhead.

“It’s an albatross,” Clear said. “You said that I was an albatross when you posted Kurage no Uta on Ensou, so I researched their biology. That one is a short-tailed albatross. It probably came north from Torijima. They are rare to see because they only come to the coast of the mainland in the summer. Just like you!”

“That’s pretty cool,” Aoba said. He would have been surprised that Clear had actually done research on this, except that it was totally in character for him. Even if he did prefer to research jellyfish.

“Did you know that the short-tailed albatross almost went extinct by the 1950s? Also, they eat mostly squid and prefer to nest in open areas near stands of grass,” Clear added. Aoba responded that no, he hadn’t known any of those things, and Clear continued giving Aoba albatross facts until the great white bird had winged away and disappeared from sight.

Around that time, Aoba felt like a shadow had fallen upon them, and looked towards Midorijima. Platinum Jail with its incredibly tall white wall was looming up in front of them. Aoba swallowed, an unreasonable anxiety creeping over him. They were almost there. Back on Midorijima. With Granny, Sei, Koujaku, and Mink. Clear’s house had been a safe haven, but he couldn’t go back there now. It was time.

“Are you alright?” Clear said, seeing the anxiety on Aoba’s face. Aoba turned towards him.

“I don’t want to go back,” he admitted. “But you know what, Clear? I’m going back anyway.”

“I think it’s for the best,” Clear said encouragingly. “You can do it, Ao. And I’ll help you.”

Aoba gave Clear a small smile, but didn’t reply. They spent the remaining ten minutes of the ferry ride staring up at the wall of Platinum Jail.

When the ferry docked, Aoba and Clear hastened back to their car, this time with Aoba taking the driver’s side. As Clear was starting to look a little tired, probably from having been up so early, Aoba figured that was a good thing. It would also be good for him to concentrate on driving instead of his turbulent thoughts. When they left the docks, Aoba didn’t take the road that led straight through the city, but one that went around the outside instead.

None of the landmarks they passed were familiar to Aoba. He had never driven along this road before, and for that he was almost thankful. Every so often he would catch glimpses of familiar landmarks out the window – a church spire, a tall building with a familiar logo on it, and he wondered – what would happen if he just changed directions and went straight into the city? What if he turned up at Koujaku’s door? What if he said, “Hello, I’m back. Koujaku, did you miss me?” What would be his reply? What if he went back to Granny’s house, and asked for forgiveness right now? Even if she was willing to give it, Aoba didn’t know if he could accept it. He knew, now, that Mink’s treatment of him had been wrong, that he hadn’t deserved all of the anger and mistrust Mink had thrown his way during their short time together. But Granny’s anger was justified. Aoba knew it was his responsibility to absolve himself – and to learn how to live on his own.

Which was why he couldn’t see Koujaku either. Aoba found himself gritting his teeth, knuckles white on the steering wheel, the temptation to turn from this road and go into town so acute it was painful. Clear hadn’t noticed, because he was staring out the window with rapt attention at the scenery of Midorijima. Good; Aoba didn’t want him to worry. Forcing himself to relax, he asked Clear what he thought of the island just to get some conversation going.

About an hour later, the road they were on merged with another, newer-looking road: the one which led around the outside of Platinum Jail. Aoba had never been this close to the wall before, and it gave him the creeps. Being in its shadow made him feel tiny, and like he was being watched by a blank and faceless god. The start of this new road was blocked by a toll gate, and Aoba had to stick his Coil out the window and get it scanned before they could continue their journey. From that point on, the wall loomed beside them, always in the peripheral vision. It was dark enough that Aoba actually had to turn his headlights on.

“I don’t like this very much,” Clear said, as they pulled away from the toll. “It’s so dark. I hope the inside is brighter.”

“It must be,” Aoba said. He knew that inside Platinum Jail, it was supposed to be a never-ending day. That must require a whole lot of lights.

With Clear tired and both of them a little creeped out, the conversation died out for the final leg of the journey. It wasn’t so bad now, because Aoba was in a much better mood, thinking about his future at the Monocle and wondering what the inside of Platinum Jail would be like. When they reached the airfield, Aoba had to drive slowly and have his Coil scanned what felt like ten more times. Finally, they were let into a long concrete tunnel that led through the wall and into Platinum Jail.

As they emerged from the end of the tunnel, Aoba and Clear gasped in unison.

It was hard to know where to look first. Overhead, the sky was dark blue and sparkling with thousands of stars. In front of them, the ground itself seemed to be a polished sheet of glass, glowing white from the inside out. All around were a myriad of tall metal buildings, lit and lively, while many fashionably-dressed people walked among them and went in and out. Everything was light, from the ground to the sky, to the trees full of fairy lights.

“Wow,” Clear sighed. Aoba agreed. Both of them stared, open-mouthed, as Aoba followed his Coil’s instructions around the inside of the wall and into the musicians’ residential district. They passed through two other areas, one of them glowing red with traditional-style Japanese buildings, the other suffused with a rich midnight blue.

Contrary to what Aoba had been expecting, the building they finally arrived at didn’t look like some cramped apartment complex. Instead, it looked more like an upscale suburb. His new home was in a building named “Glitter”, which was pretty appropriate for how shiny everything was. Aoba parked the car at the curb, and he and Clear emerged, stretching their cramped legs like they had on the boat. After retrieving Ren from the backseat, Aoba went up to the door and unlocked it with his Coil. Clear followed, carrying one of the suitcases from the boot.

Inside, the apartment was nothing like what Aoba had been expecting. The first thing he noticed was that it was incredibly spacious, with a flight of stairs leading up to a second floor – a ridiculous luxury in terms of space. The second thing was that the inside of the apartment completely failed to match the exterior. Instead of a sleek, modern design, the interior was furnished in a far more traditional style. The ground floor contained a living area, a door off to the right, the staircase, and beyond all that, the kitchen.

“This is fancy as shit,” Aoba said, tapping Ren on the head to wake him. When Ren opened his little black eyes, Aoba said, “Hey, buddy. We’re here.”

Setting Ren down, Aoba moved aside from the doorway to let Clear in too. The three of them stood in the entrance, just taking in the apartment’s luxurious design.

“Wow, this is so nice,” Clear said. “I think it will be very comfortable to live here.”

“You’ll never be able to dust all this,” Ren said, walking up to a sofa and inspecting it with a critical eye.

“Maybe it cleans itself,” Aoba said sarcastically. “You go find the bedroom, and I’m going to get the rest of my stuff out of the car.

“Roger,” said Ren, as Aoba and Clear went back outside. It took them only fifteen minutes to get all of the boxes out of the car and into the living room. Ren informed Aoba that the bedrooms (plural?!) were upstairs, so Clear and Aoba left their shoes downstairs and went to investigate.

Indeed, there were two bedrooms – and a bar area. Aoba eyed the pool table and imagined his computer there in its place. A pool table and a bar were the kind of thing that were useless unless you planned to have guests, which Aoba didn’t, at least not the kind of guests who cared about that kind of thing. If anyone came to visit him in Platinum Jail it would probably be Sei or Clear, so it would make more sense to put the computer in the bar area than in the second bedroom. They plonked the computer, monitor, and keyboard in the middle of the pool table room, leaving the task of rearranging the sofas to later. Meanwhile, everything else went into Aoba's bedroom.

Finally, they went back to the living room and flopped down over the black leather sofas. Getting all the stuff in from the car had been more work than expected, even for someone as strong as Clear. Now neither of them particularly wanted to move, both quieter than they had been all day. Staring up at the cream-coloured ceiling, Aoba marvelled at how clean and bright everything was, how fancy and electronic and oh so different from the grimy streets of Midorijima.

“We’re in Platinum Jail,” he said aloud in a bemused voice, just to test the words. “I can’t believe it.”

From Aoba’s left, he heard but didn’t see Clear say, in a bemused voice, “I didn’t know that a place like this existed, before.”

For a moment Aoba wondered what he was even doing here. ‘Oh, right. I’m a famous musician,’ he thought to himself, and grinned.

“Should we call Sei?” Ren said at length, when Aoba didn’t reply to Clear. “Maybe he would like to know that you arrived safely.”

“I didn’t tell him I was coming,” Aoba admitted. “But yeah, I guess you’re right. Clear, is that okay with you?”

“Of course. I can leave the room, if you would like,” Clear said, though he sounded like Aoba felt: not particularly in the mood for moving anywhere right now.

“Nah,” Aoba said, lazily rolling his head from side to side in place of shaking it ‘no’. He raised his arm slowly above his own face and tapped on Sei’s icon to call him.

The Coil rang, loud and electronic in the sleepy living room.

“Come on,” Aoba muttered, as Sei didn’t pick up on the first ring. Finally the call connected and Sei’s face appeared on the screen Aoba was holding over his head.

“Onii-san?” Sei said, looking confused. “What’s going on?”

Glad that Sei had remembered not to call him by his real name in front of Clear, Aoba scooted back a little until his head hit the arm of the sofa and he was forced to sit a little more upright.

“Look where we are,” Aoba said, turning the Coil about the room so that Sei could see Clear draped across the other sofa. Clear looked over and gasped, then hastily sat up, brushing off his clothing.

“Good afternoon, Sei-san!” Clear said, a little overenthusiastic to cover up this misstep of being caught on camera being lazy just moments before. “How are you?”

“Um, hi,” Sei said shyly, giving Clear a cute little wave. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“You too,” Clear said, but Aoba interrupted petulantly before the conversation could get too derailed: “Sei, where do you think we are?”

“Oh,” Sei said, refocusing his attention on the apartment. Aoba held up the Coil so he could see until Sei said, “I don’t know. It looks fancy. Are you at a hotel?”

Aoba grinned, feeling smug. “We’re in Platinum Jail,” he said, turning the camera back to himself in time to see Sei gasp delightedly and clap his hands together.

“You came back to Midorijima!” Sei said, beaming. Then the smile melted from his face, and he looked at Aoba with worried eyes.

“If you’re about to ask if I came back to be with Mink, the answer is no,” Aoba said, irritated, but Sei shook his head.

“I was going to ask how you got into Platinum Jail…” Sei said, and Aoba laughed. Did Sei imagine he and Clear had just broken in to Platinum Jail? That would be pretty funny, if he knew how to do it.

“Hey Clear,” Aoba said, and Clear looked up. “Tell Sei how we got here.”

“You would like me to explain?” Clear said, and when Aoba nodded he smiled. “Okay!” he agreed. “First we went to Miho not Matsubara to see the sunrise and have an important conversation. That’s where he sent you the pictures from. Then we drove for three hours to get to the mainland ferry terminal. Then we took the ferry over to Midorijima, and on the way we saw a rare short-tailed albatross. We drove from the ferry terminal to the airport behind Platinum Jail, and then Ao showed the guard his ID and they let us through the wall. And that’s how we got into Platinum Jail. Was that a good explanation?”

“It was great,” Aoba said. Poor Sei didn’t seem to understand, but Aoba was just lapping up every one of his reactions. It had been a while since he was able to truly surprise his brother – in a good way – and this was probably the biggest surprise he’d sprung on Sei in their lives.

“Huh? Did you use Scrap on the guard?” Sei said, frowning.

“Of course not. I was invited,” Aoba said grandly, “Because I have a job here.”

Sei’s jaw dropped. “What?” he said. Aoba, unable to help himself, started laughing at the expression on Sei’s face.

“You don’t _look_ like you’re lying,” Sei said in a tone of such utter confusion that Aoba laughed even harder. "Are you a janitor or something?"

"A janitor?!" Aoba exclaimed. "Are you joking? Where would you get that idea?"

“Ao got a job at the Monocle,” Clear burst out, looking from Aoba to Sei in consternation. “It’s a club where people will go to listen to him play music. Right?”

“Yeah,” Aoba said, wiping the corners of his eyes on his free sleeve. “I’m getting paid to be a DJ five nights a week. Oh man, you should’ve seen your face…”

“That’s amazing!” Sei exclaimed. “Wow! I had no idea you were trying to make money on your music.”

Maybe Aoba should have told Sei about his Ensou account, but he wasn’t ready for Sei to know how Aoba felt about Koujaku just yet. Undoubtedly Sei would support them, but his feelings still felt a little too private right now. And besides, Koujaku had always filled a big brother role for both of them, so maybe Sei would think it was weird…

“Can I tell Granny?” Sei said.

Aoba thought about it for a moment. “Um,” he said, thinking that maybe he should have considered this sooner. “No, don’t. I’ll write her a letter instead. She should hear about it from me.”

The thought of writing a letter to Granny made Aoba feel incredibly nervous, but it was time to get off his ass and fix things. His feelings couldn’t be an excuse anymore.

“Also, please don’t tell anyone else,” Aoba said. “I don’t want it to get back to Mink.”

Sei frowned, thinking. “Not even Koujaku?” he said at last.

“N-no,” Aoba said quickly, hoping that Sei had brought up Koujaku only because he was a frequent guest at their house and one of Aoba’s best friends, and not because of any other reason.

“Who is Koujaku?” Clear said curiously, and Aoba flinched, having almost forgotten that Clear was listening in too.

“Um, my good friend,” Aoba said. His gaze fell on Ren, who seemed to be smirking. “What are you looking at?”

“Excuse me?” Ren said innocently.

“Ugh,” Aoba said, turning his attention back to Sei. “Listen, just don’t tell anyone, okay? Koujaku is – Koujaku is – he’s a Rib player. You know news can spread across Rib teams pretty easily. Next thing you know all of Dry Juice will know where I am, and then how long will it take for it to get back to Scratch?”

‘Weak,’ his mind protested, but to Aoba’s relief Sei only nodded, expression neutral.

“What’s ‘Rib’?” Clear said innocently, and Aoba sighed.

“It’s a game kinda like Noiz’s Rhyme, but real,” he said, wondering why this hadn’t come up in conversation with Clear before. Though Aoba did have a tendency to avoid all Midorijima-related topics with him.

“Who’s Noiz and what’s Rhyme?” said Sei, and Aoba turned to him angrily before seeing the teasing smile on Sei’s lips.

“You -!” Aoba exclaimed, and Sei laughed. Clear, too, disguised a laugh as a cough behind one hand. The next thing Aoba knew, Sei was grinning at Clear like an idiot, and he had to quickly flip the screen around before Clear could notice Sei making dumb expressions.

“I’m not going to sit around here to be made fun of,” Aoba complained, and Sei held up his hands in an apologetic gesture. Aoba might have let the conversation continue if at that precise moment his stomach hadn’t started rumbling.

“Ah, shit, when did we last eat?” Aoba said, checking the time on his Coil.

“Not that long ago,” Clear said, frowning. Then his eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Excuse me, I believe I was wrong. It’s been six hours.”

“Are you hungry?” Sei said. “Go eat. I’ll be here when you get back.”

“Thanks, Sei,” Aoba said gratefully. “Talk to you later.”

“Bye,” Sei said, waving. “Bye, Clear. It was nice seeing you again!”

“You too,” Clear said, waving back.

‘I bet it was,’ Aoba thought to himself, smirking inwardly. It seemed his initial hunch had been correct – Sei thought Clear was attractive. Well, hopefully it wasn’t one-sided… maybe Aoba would have to quiz Clear about it discretely later. With that, he hung up the call and turned his attention to ordering some kind of food. It had been a long day. A big spread of take-out would be the perfect way to wind it down with Clear.

And so Aoba became a permanent resident of Platinum Jail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINALLY FINISHED THE STUFF THAT JOINS THE BEGINNING WITH THE ENDING. THANK GOG.   
> If anything about this chapter seems like it's screaming for revision, please tell me because I'm too tired to figure it out myself. At this point, I'm just throwing whatever writing onto the page. I did warn you. Sorry. I may come back later. Or I may not. Who knows? Future me is an unfathomable creature...
> 
> Some of you said stuff in the comments like, ‘Clear, please don’t cry’. Well, Aoba feels exactly the same way as you do. Poor guy. 
> 
> You probably noticed that Miho no Matsubara is a real place in Japan. It was a total accident that I put Aoba in a prefecture with such a famous beach, but a good one. I have never actually been to this pine grove, but I used Google maps to figure out what it must look like from the ground. If anyone's actually been there, feel free to correct.
> 
> Based on Wikipedia, I think that summer is the time short-tailed Albatrosses could be seen on the coast of Japan, but it was a little unclear. They actually nest pretty far away, in the middle of the freakin’ ocean, so the odds of this actually happening are pretty low.
> 
> I suddenly realised that I probably should have mentioned Aoba’s parents, since he’s been on the mainland this whole time. Well, guess what? Fuck it to that too. 
> 
> [Minor Platinum Jail worldbuilding](http://voxiferous.tumblr.com/post/151963007892/platinum-jail-worldbuilding).
> 
> Alternate title for this chapter: The Start of Something Really Excellent  
> Ten points to the Hogwarts house of your choice if you can tell me what I'm referencing. ;3
> 
> Comments and questions always welcome!


	19. Letters

Letter to Granny

_Dear Granny,_

_I’m sorry for running away and leaving home because of Mink. I know I was wrong and I regret bringing you distress. Even though I can’t make it up to you, I wanted you to know that I’ve been trying to be a better grandson. I just got a job in Platinum Jail as a DJ at a nightclub called the Monocle. When I have enough money, I’ll come back to the Old Resident District to ask for your forgiveness in person. Until then, I will do my hardest to make you proud of me no matter what._

_Sincerely, Aoba_

\----

Message on Ensou, posted the next day after Clear had gone home and Aoba signed his contract:

_Dear Everyone,_

_I am happy to announce to you all that if you like my music, you can now hear me perform live on the island of Midorijima, in Platinum Jail, at the Monocle. I will be giving a performance there every Thursday night, and DJ’ing on Monday, Tuesday, Friday, and Sunday. If you’ve been following me for a while and you want to come see me, I can give you a discount for 10% of the entry fee into the club. I will be performing some music not yet released on this account in the next few weeks. Love to see you all there!_

_-Sly Blue_

Aoba didn't know about the piano keys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~This is THE most heavy handed foreshadowing I have ever written in my life. But it was either this or several more pages of summary, and no one wants that. Especially not me. O.o~~ I kinda fixed it???
> 
> Comments & questions always welcome... 
> 
> P.S. The next chapter is going to be way better. I wrote it a month ago, back when I was all bright eyed and busy tailed. 
> 
> P.P.S. Spoiler alert @my Mink-loving fans: Mink isn't going to be in the next chapter. Sorry to advance disappoint you.


	20. Message Recieved

Koujaku was hanging out with the other members of Beni Shigure when his Coil rang twice, indicating that he had two messages of some kind. 

“Hey, someone wants to talk to you, Boss,” Kou said, and Koujaku pulled a face as he knocked back part of a glass of third-rate sake. They were all in a bar relaxing together, and Koujaku wasn’t particularly keen on dealing with anything that wasn’t another glass of sake, though he was considering turning his attention to a cigarette later on in the evening. Still, two messages in a row was unusual. Koujaku sighed.

“Yeah, I’ll check them,” he said, putting down his glass and raising his wrist. Koujaku kept his Coil underneath one of his wrist-guards, which he now peeled back to see the tiny screen. It was a bit hard to read in the dim light of the bar, but at least Koujaku was sober enough to see straight. 

The two messages were from two different, equally unexpected people: RuffRabbit and Crystal_Jelly. Koujaku’s hand unconsciously strayed to the Redbird keychain he now wore dangling from his obi. Something must be up.

“How’d these jerks get my number?” Koujaku muttered to himself, while Kou peered curiously at him. A few of the other members of Beni Shigure had noticed that their boss was playing with his Coil, but none of them looked particularly concerned. Hagima, who was sitting next to Kou, elbowed Koujaku in the ribs. 

“Someone annoying, boss? We can take care of them for you, unless it’s a creditor!”

Koujaku knew he should laugh, but his heart wasn’t in it. 

“It’s probably not important,” he sighed, opening RuffRabbit’s message. It read:

“This is a private chat. Open it, or I’ll kill you.”

Below that, there was a hyperlink. Koujaku rolled his eyes and clicked on the message from Crystal_Jelly.

“Kansuzume-san, RuffRabbit-san believes that SlyBlue-san is in danger and needs our assistance. Please join the private group chat he has sent you if you wish to help. I am very worried about him!”

Bluejay was in some kind of trouble, and RuffRabbit wanted Koujaku’s help? Again? Why? Koujaku had committed to helping Bluejay once, but that didn’t mean he would do it again. If Bluejay needed someone to tie his shoes or wipe his ass for him, he could just forget about it. Still, Koujaku felt bad ignoring Crystal_Jelly’s message, since he sounded so worried. 

Heaving an internal sigh of irritation, Koujaku stood up. Kou, Hagima, and a few other Beni Shigure members looked at him in confusion. 

“I have to go deal with this,” Koujaku said, gesturing at his Coil. “Sorry. Next time drinks are on me.”

“So generous, boss!” Ringo said, and Koujaku rolled his eyes and grinned as his friends laughed.

“Bye,” said Kou, waving energetically. Hagima nodded at him, and Koujaku stepped out of the bar.

Outside, the street was busy and bustling in spite of the late hour, and Koujaku had to dodge several drunken partygoers as he opened RuffRabbit’s chatroom link on his Coil and made his way towards home. It was a good thing the bar was just a 10 minute walk from his apartment. As the foot traffic began to thin out and Koujaku entered his slightly calmer neighbourhood, he read the subject line of the chat and almost stopped dead in his tracks. 

“SlyBlue warned of Cockatiel’s return”

It had been weeks. How could Cockatiel have found Bluejay now? As Koujaku scrolled through the preliminary messages in the chat, he absent-mindedly opened the door to his building, took the elevator up, and opened his own door. Once inside, he automatically took his shoes off, set his sword down beside the futon, and sat down on top of it. Beni hopped out of the inside of his kimono.

“What’s going on?” he said.

“Bluejay,” Koujaku said, as Beni came to perch on his shoulder. 

“Not him again,” Beni said in exasperation. “You have better things to do with your life, Koujaku.”

“Mm-hmm,” said Koujaku. Beni pecked at his ear. 

“Ouch! Stop that,” Koujaku said, jerking away from Beni’s sharp little beak. “Bluejay is a waste of time, is that what you want to hear? If you don’t want to deal with it, I’m just going to put you in sleep mode.”

Beni rolled his eyes and let out a loud sight right into Koujaku’s ear. “Fine,” he said. “If you’re going to be like that, I’ll put myself to sleep.”

With that, he fluttered over to Koujaku’s bedside table and powered down, leaving Koujaku alone to read the emergency chat in peace.

 **RuffRabbit:** there’s some suspicious rando commenting on SlyBlue’s stuff and asking where he is. Sly says Cockatiel’s in Platinum Jail and asked some guys at the Monocle about him. Sly’s about ready to run away again if we don’t do something  
**Crystal_Jelly:** Is Blue-san certain that it was Cockatiel who asked about him?  
**RuffRabbit:** he left two messages and disappeared, because he’s helpful like that. the first one says: “I saw him at the Monocle. I won’t go back with him. I won’t run away but maybe I have to hide for a while.”  
**RuffRabbit:** then I said, what the hell are you talking about, and he said this:  
**RuffRabbit:** “Cockatiel came to the Monocle. I know it was him because I saw him. I can’t face him on my own, so I have to leave here. Thanks for all your help.”  
**Crystal_Jelly:** Oh no!  
**Crystal_Jelly:** So what are we going to do?  
**RuffRabbit:** go find Sly and put down this Cockatiel bastard, because it looks like Sly’s too scared to do it without us  
**Crystal_Jelly:** I think Blue-san is very brave.  
**RuffRabbit:** whatever. I’m going to invite Kansuzume and mizu_hi now

And that was where the conversation had ended so far, with someone in the middle of typing out the next message. Koujaku, realising that it was going to be a long night, started undressing for bed. If he was going to sort out more of SlyBlue’s life problems, he was going to be comfortable while doing it. 

Koujaku’s Coil pinged three times in quick succession as he was digging around in his chest of drawers for some clean underwear.

 **mizu_hi:** so whats this abt a rando commenting?  
**RuffRabbit:** “Who is SlyBlue? Where does he work?”  
**RuffRabbit:** “I need to know where I can find SlyBlue. Please tell me.”  
**RuffRabbit:** “SlyBlue must be a very interesting individual. I wonder if this is true.”  
**RuffRabbit:** etc.

By the time RuffRabbit finished relaying the unknown poster’s messages, Koujaku was wearing a comfortable robe and had taken his hair down. It would be nice to have a shower, but, there was no way he could take his Coil into the bathroom without totally ruining it. So instead, Koujaku resigned himself to being sweaty and typed out a reply.

 **Kansuzume:** That might have nothing to do with cockatiel  
**RuffRabbit:** someone told this weirdo that SlyBlue works in Platinum Jail. it’s not that hard to find out if you have half a brain. three days later SlyBlue says that Cockatiel is at the Monocle. it’s suspicious as all hell  
**Crystal_Jelly:** Cockatiel cannot hurt SlyBlue-san! I wish I could get into Platinum Jail too.  
**RuffRabbit:** that’s why I invited Kansuzume and mizu_hi. both of you are trustworthy, and you both live near Platinum Jail

Koujaku did not like where this was going. Did he think that this random poster and Cockatiel were connected? Maybe, but like RuffRabbit said, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that Bluejay thought he had seen Cockatiel at the club where he worked, and was now in hiding because of it. Did Koujaku think that Bluejay was actually in danger? Well, that was the question that really mattered, because it was the question that determined if he would be going to help Bluejay or not.

 **Kansuzume:** Are you sure Bluejay is in danger?  
**mizu_hi:** i dont know how to get into pj w o paying n its v expensive sorry!  
**Crystal_Jelly:** SlyBlue-san told me that he is happy living in Platinum Jail and working at the Monocle club. If he is going into hiding, it must be really serious. As his friends, we can’t just abandon him!  
**RuffRabbit:** listen, I don’t care if you think there is really a problem or not, but I do. I will pay the entrance fee for you to get into Platinum Jail and check up on SlyBlue if you’re too much of a chump to figure out a free way in. just suck it up and go, you don’t have to be there for more than a day

Bluejay should have been just a random musician on the internet, but he wasn’t. For one thing, his music – the musician himself, even – reminded Koujaku of Aoba. Aoba, who he had always loved and wanted to protect. For another thing, Bluejay was potentially being stalked by a violent and cruel man, someone who of all people in the world should have loved him best. That, to Koujaku, was a terrible crime, a terrible betrayal of trust. So was it worth it to go on a wild goose chase to Platinum Jail just to find out whether Bluejay was seeing phantoms in the night, or if his ex-boyfriend was really there, chasing after him? Maybe not. But was it a noble thing, a thing that a good, honest, and just man would do? Yes. So Koujaku, who knew that he wasn’t any of those things but wanted terribly to be all of them had no choice.

God give him patience, because this Bluejay thing was getting to be more trouble than he had ever bargained on. Koujaku could hear Beni’s irritating little voice in his head as he typed: “Koujaku, please tell me we are not going to Platinum Jail.”

 **Kansuzume:** I can get into platinum jail, and I don’t need your money  
**RuffRabbit:** that’s the spirit  
**Kansuzume:** Where’s Bluejay’s apartment?  
**RuffRabbit:** I don’t know. he picked it. but I can tell you where the Monocle is  
**Kansuzume:** The staff is never going to tell me how to find him. I could be anyone.  
**RuffRabbit:** so bribe them or something

Koujaku was about to snap an angry reply, when: 

**Crystal_Jelly:** I have an idea, Kansuzume-san.  
**Kansuzume:** Yes?  
**Crystal_Jelly:** Why don’t you tell them you are Prince Redbird?

Koujaku considered the idea for a moment. It was true that Beni looked remarkably like the official drawing of Prince Redbird, with the shoes and everything. Koujaku himself could attempt to put on a regal air and act like he knew Bluejay. Of course, he would have to bribe Beni with something really good to get him to go along with this crazy scheme. But the moment anyone asked him or Beni for any personal details about Bluejay, they were sunk. 

**Kansuzume:** No good. I don’t know anything about Bluejay.  
**Crystal_Jelly:** I don’t know if this is his real name, but he said that I could call him Ao-san or Aoi-san.  
**RuffRabbit:** yes, we know his name has Blue in it. his stage name  
**Crystal_Jelly:** Perhaps I’m wrong, but he did answer to it aloud.  
**RuffRabbit:** so you think it’s his regular nickname, is what you’re saying

Ao… Aoi… Aoba… now Koujaku would have even more excuses for mixing up Bluejay and Aoba. But he had given up on trying to fight it, so his reaction to Clear’s information was nothing more than mild annoyance.

 **Crystal_Jelly:** Yes. Also, I know what he looks like. His face is very kind and gentle. His birthday is in April. And I know what he likes to eat and wear and how long he sleeps for every morning. And he has a little brother, who has black hair and is very fashionable!  
**RuffRabbit:** about 95% of the population of Japan has black hair, Clear  
**Kansuzume:** I don’t think that’s the kind of detail they will ask me for. But thanks anyhow.  
**mizu_hi:** clear what about his age n birthday again  
**Crystal_Jelly:** He was born in April and he is definitely 21 years old because he is able to drink alcohol. Maybe he is 22, but I think he said 21. Also, his Allmate is a dog. He is the most polite dog I ever met.  
**Kansuzume:** That’s not much to go on  
**mizu_hi:** maybe kansuzume could call me n ill pretend to be slys bro n vouch for u  
**mizu_hi:** get some third party confirmation  
**RuffRabbit:** that could work, if you can lie convincingly  
**mizu_hi:** tbh not really  
**RuffRabbit:** this is never going to work

Privately, Koujaku thought this whole thing was doomed to failure. Not rescuing Bluejay, just convincing anyone that he was Prince Redbird. The real Prince Redbird was probably the most handsome man and naturally charming man in the room, whereas all of Koujaku’s charm was carefully cultured, and he took great pains to play up his own physical qualities by paying conscious attention to his appearance. Anyone who knew someone like real Prince Redbird would surely see through Koujaku in about five minutes. Less, if they saw his tattoos.

But it didn’t matter how inadequate Koujaku was for the task. He was the only one who could do it, hidden tattoos and all. Hopefully it would be enough, if Koujaku pretended to be the person he wished he could see himself as. Koujaku ran his entire life on that hope.

 **Kansuzume:** I’ll handle it on my own or not at all  
**RuffRabbit:** will you leave right now  
**Kansuzume:** I’ve been up for 18 hours. I’m sleeping first.  
**RuffRabbit:** he better not be gone when you get there  
**Kansuzume:** I’m not a magician, asshole  
**Crystal_Jelly:** SlyBlue-san has a lot of equipment to pack, but he does not have a car. He could get a taxi, but then where would he go? If he wants to leave Midorijima, the first ferry is at 9:30 AM. I know because I took it with him.  
**Crystal_Jelly:** So if you arrive before 8:00 AM, he will definitely still be there. I can go wait at the ferry terminal on the mainland in case you miss him. That way one of us will absolutely be able to see him and talk to him.  
**mizu-hi:** thats a rly good idea i vote aye  
**RuffRabbit:** me too  
**RuffRabbit:** but before 8 am isn’t going to cut it. make sure you’re at his apartment by at least 7 am. that way you can let Clear know in advance if he has to drive all the way to Midorijima or not  
**Kansuzume:** Fine. Can you get me a fake invitation into platinum jail?  
**RuffRabbit:** I thought you said you could get in on your own  
**Kansuzume:** I can, but I might need it to get into the monocle. I don’t know exactly how it works, but that’s what I’ve heard.  
**mizu-hi:** yea i heard that too  
**RuffRabbit:** fine. go to sleep now so you don’t fuck up tomorrow morning. I’ll send the invitation to your Coil  
**Crystal_Jelly:** Good luck, Kansuzume-san!!! You can do it!!!  
**mizu_hi:** if u need anything just ask  
**mizu-hi:** good luck!  
**Kansuzume:** Thank you  
**RuffRabbit:** get out of here already

Koujaku took that as a license to close out the chat. Finally he could take his Coil off and set it beside the futon with his sword. Yawning, Koujaku turned the lights out and lay down on the futon. It was hard to believe that tomorrow he might be meeting Bluejay in person for the first time. Abandoning a good time at the bar, having to talk to RuffRabbit, and sneaking into Platinum Jail were not things that Koujaku particularly wanted to do. But perhaps this would all be worth it.

Koujaku’s last thought before he fell asleep: If I meet Bluejay and if he’s alright, I’m going to ask him how he writes all of his songs. I’m going to ask him how he always manages to remind me of Aoba.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Koujaku’s typing quirk took me a million years to come up with, and it’s complicated as fuck. He punctuates, except if there is only one sentence in the message, in which case he leaves off the ending period. He only capitalises nouns he thinks are important (like Bluejay, Mizuki, and Mother, but not cockatiel, platinum jail, or Coil), as well as "I" and the first word of each sentence. The more emotional he is, the more random his punctuation and capitalisation get. He consciously avoids using exclamation points, though. If he were really angry, he would switch to caps lock.
> 
> I've given thought to how I would design a cover for this fic, not that I can draw it myself (though I guess I could manip it). It would be like one of those movie covers where they stack people's faces and they look all intense, like [this](http://www.wildsoundmovies.com/images/lord_of_the_rings_dvd_cover.jpg). On the bottom would be Koujaku and Aoba, looking at each other (although Aoba's back is turned towards the viewer, you can still see his face). Behind Koujaku are Sei and Mizuki, and behind Aoba are Noiz and Clear. On the next tier up is Granny, flanked by Beni and Ren, and above everyone is Mink, alone. There is a feathered red wing coming from behind Aoba and a feathered blue wing coming from behind Koujaku. IDK if you can picture that, but I think it would be pretty cool.
> 
> BTW I'm writing a couple chapters ahead of what's been posted so far, and I'm working on a smut scene for you all o3o get excited!!
> 
> Comments and questions always welcome~


	21. Koujaku

The next morning, Koujaku woke up feeling as grey and fuzzy as the weak light battling with his curtains to come into the room. He checked his Coil – fake invitation acquired, so RuffRabbit was good for something after all. After dressing hastily, Koujaku grabbed his sword, put Beni inside his kimono, and headed out the door. He stopped for a couple of onigiri at the konbini on the street corner, thankful that it was open at such an early hour. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was so early that the store was about to close for the night. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Koujaku made his way through the dead streets of Midorijima on auto-pilot. Most of his thoughts were nonverbal or semi-coherent, snatches of complaints about the earliness of the hour, his feelings of tiredness, questioning his dedication to the task, and cursing RuffRabbit, Cockatiel, and Bluejay in their turn without really meaning any of it. 

But finally, Koujaku arrived at the opening to a large, square tunnel. It was cordoned off behind a chain-link fence and several black and yellow roadblocks draped in security tape, cradled among abandoned buildings in the dis-used part of the city. In contrast to the early-morning quiet on Koujaku’s side of the fence, which was a drowsy, relaxing calm, the blank facades of these crumbling, concrete high-rises seemed to look down watchfully, as if judging Koujaku to determine whether or not he should be permitted to pass through the streets they protected. Koujaku bowed his head politely in case of restless spirits. Surely the place was teeming with hungry ghosts, if nothing else, but those were never a concern. Koujaku climbed over the barrier and entered the deserted neighbourhood. 

Just a few short steps, and he was inside the tunnel. In reality, it was not a tunnel at all, but an old metro station. Of course, no metro had come through here in over twenty years, and this place had faded from the memories of most of Midorijima’s inhabitants. But Koujaku knew about it because one of the members of Beni Shigure used to live right near this station when he was very young. And what Beni Shigure knew, Koujaku knew – assuming it was as interesting as a way to sneak into Platinum Jail, that is.

The walls of the station were all completely brown, with water dripping from the ceiling and dust lying thickly over the ground. Somehow, faint strip lighting remained overhead, illuminating just a few feet ahead at a time. Koujaku had brought a small flashlight, which he slipped out of the pocket of his jeans and switched on. The ground was somewhat uneven, as it was criss-crossed with train tracks and littered with rocks and other chunks of debris. Koujaku passed an old tennis shoe and a discarded umbrella as he made his way deeper into the tunnel.

Down here the silence was a different kind of silence from that Koujaku had felt in the world above. It was neither peaceful nor watchful, but muffled, like a totally alien world. Koujaku’s footsteps echoed, and every so often a small pebble or a drop of water would fall from the ceiling and ring out through the tunnel, almost like he was in a natural cave instead of a man-made one. 

Although the tunnel was beginning to seem endless, Koujaku forced himself to pay attention. He had only the vaguest idea of where this tunnel might come out, so he had to be prepared for anything. Finally, after passing through a second metro station, he arrived at the end of the tunnel. For a moment Koujaku feared he had arrived at a dead end, until he shone the flashlight around and found a metal stairway leading up to a platform beside the tracks. Koujaku climbed the stairs, walked the length of the platform, and found a door padlocked shut with a length of rusted chain. Koujaku was not particularly accustomed to breaking and entering, but it was nevertheless a simple matter to break the rusty chain with the hilt of his sword.

The door itself was a simple, cheaply-made affair with a standard public bathroom style lock. Perhaps this door had not been meant to be closed for long periods of time, or perhaps whoever had put the chain on it had assumed it was unlikely to be a necessary precaution. Koujaku sized up the door, drew his leg back, and let fly a mighty kick. The door didn’t stand a chance, clattering to the ground in an enormous puff of dust. Coughing, Koujaku hid his face behind the sleeve of his yukata. As the dust settled, a bright light flicked on in the room beyond. 

Finally able to breathe again, Koujaku lifted his head and examined the empty room in front of him. It was a spacious, barren room, with polished floor tiles and gleaming walls. Five giant screens flickered blankly on the far wall, each one showing a different area of what Koujaku presumed was Platinum Jail. Below each screen was a plain white door, but there was no indication as to how to open any of these doors. Stepping into the room, Koujaku noted a large, plush-looking panda bear slumped on the floor against the wall at the midpoint of the room. That bear’s eyes were eerie, gleaming far too brightly for something that looked otherwise entirely dead. Koujaku found himself trying to avoid it, heading directly past it and straight for the doors. 

Not a single one of the five white doors had a doorknob, keyhole, or even hinges. Experimentally, Koujaku tried pushing one of the doors to the side, then opening it from the bottom up, but it completely refused to budge. The one next to it was the same, and so was the one in the centre. Even though it was unlikely he could get the doors open by force, Koujaku tested every single one just in case one of them was loose. Unfortunately, each door was sealed as tightly as the last. Koujaku was stuck.

Fortunately for him, there was someone in the room who might be able to help him, and it wasn’t the dead panda with the creepy eyes. Reaching inside his kimono, Koujaku brought out a little red bundle of feathers and sarcasm – Beni, who was mercifully still in sleep mode. Beni always slept with his face tucked under one wing, so Koujaku lightly pressed the centre of Beni’s back to activate him. 

Beni’s eyes clicked open, and he slowly lowered his wing. Blinking, he looked around the room, then up at Koujaku. 

“Are we in Platinum Jail?” Beni said disbelievingly. “How the hell did you get into Platinum Jail?”

“Bluejay’s apartment is in Platinum Jail, so I’m going to check up on him. I got in through the old subway that Tomonori told us about. Now we’re stuck. Are you going to help me, or are you going to go back into my kimono?” Koujaku said. 

Beni’s eye fell on the panda, and he let out a yelp. “What is that?!”

“It’s just a robot, Beni. I don’t think it’s working,” Koujaku said.

When the panda didn’t move, Beni sniffed disapprovingly, fluttered onto Koujaku’s shoulder to observe it from a safer vantage point. “You don’t think that creepy thing is supposed to get us out of here, do you?”

That terrible thought had not in fact occurred to Koujaku at all. Both Koujaku and Beni looked at the bear for a moment, neither of them saying anything.

“I’ll go look at it, then,” Koujaku said, reluctantly going over to the robot. Beni squawked and gripped Koujaku’s shoulder more tightly. 

As they approached the panda, it did not move, even when Koujaku nudged it with his foot. As he was eying the bear and wondering whether or not he should pick it up and move it, Beni gave a start.

“Look at the wall,” Beni said. Koujaku looked. There on the wall above the panda’s head was a button, just at the height for an upright robotic panda to press. 

‘Poor thing,’ Koujaku thought to himself. 

“Do you think it was trying to get out?” Beni said unsympathetically. “Spooky.”

Koujaku ginned at Beni’s choice of words and pressed the button on the wall. There was a sharp hiss of static as all five screens flickered at once, then went black. All five doors clicked, hopefully signalling that they were all unlocked. Sparing no backwards glance for the creepy panda, Koujaku walked over to the wall of doors and tried the one closest to him, which had been showing the image of a bright red, traditional Japanese building. The door slid open easily (so all that tugging and pushing had been for nothing) into a white corridor with a podium in it. Koujaku approached the podium, and the door slid shut behind him. 

Before he had time to get nervous, a computerised voice said to him, “Please scan your invitation or ticket now.” 

Koujaku pulled up the invitation on his Coil and held it over the little podium. After a moment the voice said, “Platinum ID confirmed. Welcome, Tori Akai-san.” Koujaku rolled his eyes at the fake name RuffRabbit had given him. “Your invitation grants you access to every district of Platinum Jail, although certain establishments may require separate membership. Please read the detailed support section in the full invitation card. Please enjoy.”

Then, the door beyond the podium opened. Beyond it lay Platinum Jail in all its glistening, electric glory. Although it was only 5:45 AM, people were going to and fro on both sides of the street, prompting Koujaku to double-check the time on his Coil. Perhaps people here just never slept. Well, that was none of Koujaku’s business; he had a reclusive musician to find. Fortunately, along with the invitation RuffRabbit had also sent him a map of Platinum Jail with the Monocle clearly marked. Koujaku pulled up the map on his Coil and checked the fastest route to get to the club. RuffRabbit had made a note at the side of the map:

“Bluejay always works evenings. They won’t be expecting him at the club when you’re there, but they’ll want to know why he disappeared last night.”

Good to know. Koujaku closed the map and set off. 

“Man, this place is full of money,” Beni commented in Koujaku’s ear. Koujaku could see what he meant. Everything was immaculate, spotless. The lights shone brightly not just because of the powerful bulbs installed in every fixture, but because they had a million gleaming surfaces to reflect off of. Koujaku didn’t really like it. Even the Japanese buildings with their ridged tile roofs and pale white walls seemed somehow new and shiny in the worst possible way. It made Koujaku feel off, somehow. Hopefully this visit would be short. 

“So why are we here, again?” Beni said, and Koujaku remembered that Beni had gone to sleep before him last night, and didn’t actually know what the plan was. As he set off, he explained the situation, Beni complained a little, Koujaku griped back, and then Beni got bored and turned his attention elsewhere. The streets of Platinum Jail were fairly complex, and confusing to a newcomer because they all looked the same. As Koujaku’s attention waned, Beni kept up a steady stream of sarcastic commentary in his ear. Most of it was about Platinum Jail itself – how shiny it was, how fake it looked (it didn’t really look fake, to Koujaku), how boring all the people were – but some of it was jibes at Koujaku for having come here in the first place. Perhaps it should have been distracting, but Koujaku didn’t mind, finding Beni’s comments amusing and even comforting in this strange place. He chuckled occasionally but didn’t reply to anything, since he was so focused on finding his destination. Finally, they rounded a corner and Koujaku spotted the Monocle on the opposite side of the street, exactly where Noiz’s map said it would be. 

“Beni, try your best to be polite, will you?” Koujaku said. “They’ll expect Redbird to be a gentleman, and that includes his Allmate. Got it?”

“Yeah, fine,” Beni grumbled. “I’ll help you rescue your little boyfriend.”

Koujaku rolled his eyes and ignored the jab, then crossed the street and entered the Monocle.

Inside, the place seemed to be half concert hall, half club. On the floor Koujaku was on, there was a coat check to the right, a bar to the left, and a vast hall full of dancing people beyond that. They were all facing a fairly impressive stage, where a DJ was remixing a fairly popular song with a more techno beat. There seemed to be a balcony level above that on three sides. Koujaku ignored all of that and went straight to the coat check. 

There were only three people in line for the coat check, so Koujaku didn’t have long to wait. When he got up to the counter, the pink-haired woman there looked at him with confusion, perhaps wondering if he planned to try and check his kimono. 

Instead, Koujaku politely said, “Excuse me, I need to talk to the manager of the musicians in this establishment. I need to speak with them about one of their performers.”

He kept his request as vague as possible so that not only could she pretend that the manager couldn’t help him and send him away, but also so that he didn’t come across as a stalker like Cockatiel. The woman’s rhinestone-encrusted eyebrows shot up into her hairline. 

“I see. One moment, please. I will call the manager.”

Koujaku gave her his name, and waited until a man in a powder blue suit came over, accompanied by two bouncers in regular suits. It was probably the sword strapped to his back that merited two bouncers, Koujaku thought to himself. 

“Good evening,” said the man in the blue suit. Koujaku could tell by the way Beni’s little feet shifted on his shoulder that Beni was itching to comment about that suit, but he kept his mouth shut. 

“Good evening,” Koujaku replied, giving a little bow. 

“Perhaps we could take this conversation away from the coat check,” Blue Suit said. 

“But of course,” said Koujaku. He was lead to a staircase beside the bar, and all four of them – Koujaku, Blue Suit, and two bouncers – went up to the third level of the building. There, they walked a short way down a corridor and entered a room plastered with signed pictures of various musicians. The room contained a desk with two chairs: one in front and one behind it. Koujaku surmised that this was the manager’s office. The two bouncers stood outside the room with their backs to the wall, so Koujaku surmised that they didn’t actually expect him to use the sword. The music from downstairs was so loud that Koujaku could feel the beat even here, on the third floor up. 

“How can I help you?” Blue Suit – the manager – said. Koujaku took a deep breath. 

This was it. The moment of truth. Now he would find out if he could pass as Redbird or not…

“Many years ago, I lost contact with a very precious friend of mine. Ever since I lost track of him, I have been searching for him everywhere,” Koujaku said. If he thought about Aoba, it was easy to twist his face into an expression of true grief and concern. “I think that something bad may have befallen him, and so I’m more desperate to find him than ever. I apologise for disturbing you, but I believe that one of the musicians in your employ may be him. His name is –”

“Is this about Sly Blue?” the manager said, and Koujaku knew he’d better talk fast. 

“I was going to say Ao-kun, but yes, I believe that is his stage name,” Koujaku said, hoping the use of Bluejay’s nickname would prove that Koujaku wasn’t just a random stalker.

This did not have the desired effect. 

“He said someone like you would come looking for him,” the manager said, rising. The two bouncers appeared in the doorway. “You’ll get no help from me, you scum. You should be ashamed of yourself for thinking you could just waltz in here and take away someone by force right under my nose.”

To his horror, Koujaku realised that the manager must think he was Cockatiel. He tried to find something to say that might prove his innocence, but all he had was a handful of useless facts about Bluejay at his disposal. 

“Take him away,” the manager said, gesturing to Koujaku. One of the bouncers gripped his arm.

“Hey! Excuse me! Do I look like a Cockatiel to you?” Beni snapped. For the first time, the manager looked straight at him.

“Beni, it’s alright,” Koujaku said soothingly. “Perhaps this man doesn’t know that Ao-kun has nicknamed me Redbird.”

“Yeah, but what are we going to do if they kick you out? How are you going to find the love of your life if –”

“That’s enough,” Koujaku said again, and Beni finally fell silent. The manager was staring. 

“You’re Redbird?” he said disbelievingly, and Koujaku looked down modestly, praying that his and Beni’s little charade would work. 

“Well… Ao-kun always was fond of my Allmate, Beni, here. He made him laugh. As you can see, he’s not very well-behaved. I apologise,” Koujaku said. 

“I… see,” the manager said, looking at Koujaku intently. Koujaku tried to school his features into an expression of earnest concern. Finally, the manager gestured at the bouncers, who let go of Koujaku and retreated to the doorway, though they did not leave the room. 

“I was not expecting Prince Redbird to be so… to be so…” the manager started. Koujaku decided to play the nice guy and help him out a little. 

“I’m a member of Beni Shigure, a Ribsteez group,” he said, as if that would somehow explain all of his scars. The manager had probably never even heard of Ribsteez, unless he had for some reason gotten it into his head to go visit the Old Resident district.

Still, the manager nodded politely. “I see,” he said. “Well, I apologise for suspecting you of being Cockatiel. What do you need from me?”

“Ao-kun’s address,” Koujaku said. “I understand if you feel that you can’t give out that information, but I already tried contacting him in every way I can think of. Besides, I want to protect him in person from Cockatiel.”

The manager considered Koujaku’s request for a moment. Finally, he threw his hands up. “I can’t protect Sly Blue from himself forever,” he said. “Here.” He pulled out a piece of paper, wrote down Bluejay’s address, and held it out to Koujaku. “Have him call me right away, or I’m calling the police and giving them your description, understand?”

“Of course,” Koujaku said smoothly, taking the precious scrap of paper. After some polite exchanges and bowing, Koujaku was led back downstairs by the two bouncers. He immediately left the club, pulled up RuffRabbit’s map, and located the address he had just been given. It was a 20 minute walk away. Fine. Koujaku set off immediately, knowing there was precious little time to waste. 

“’Thanks, Beni, you did really well, Beni’,” Beni piped up from Koujaku’s shoulder. 

“Yes, thank you,” Koujaku said absently.

“Give ‘em the old good cop, bad cop, am I right?” Beni said. “Wasn’t it weird to call him Ao-kun?”

“Very weird,” Koujaku said, because it had been. He had no idea what Bluejay’s real name was, but surely it wasn’t something as boring a plain as just Ao. “Beni, is it alright if I put you into sleep mode?”

“What? Why?” Beni said. “Don’t want me to embarrass you in front of your precious idol?”

“No, I don’t want Bluejay to look at you and ask me if I’m some kind of stalker who thinks he’s Prince Redbird,” Koujaku said, and Beni burst out laughing. 

“You are embarrassed,” he crowed. “Should I go back and tell that blue suit guy that you’re a stalker who doesn’t think he’s Prince Redbird?”

“Beni,” Koujaku said warningly, because he wasn’t in the mood for Beni’s teasing anymore. On the one hand, he did feel bad about powering up Beni just to ask him for help, then putting him straight back to sleep. But on the other, this was a tense enough situation already, and he didn’t think he could handle Beni right now, much as he cared about him.

“Fine,” Beni said, and Koujaku internally heaved a sigh of relief. Beni hopped into Koujaku’s palm and powered down. Koujaku was replacing him safely inside his kimono just as he turned onto Bluejay’s street. This neighbourhood was far enough from the bustling club scene to be calm and quiet, with only one other person walking down the sidewalk. The buildings were all made of unadorned white stone, and the road was polished so highly that it reflected the trees growing at regular intervals along the sidewalk. Each house had a generous amount of windows, but most of them were dark or had the curtains pulled. The few streetlamps interspersed with the trees illuminated the area in a soft yellow glow, which Koujaku liked much better than the bright white LED lights around all the clubs. 

Bluejay’s house was called “Glitter”, or at least, that was written above the door. Koujaku took a moment to collect himself. He was a little overwhelmed, but there was no time to think about that now. Koujaku climbed the front steps to Bluejay’s house, and stopped when he saw the lock. 

It was clearly designed for the resident to scan their Coil to open the door. But Koujaku’s Coil wasn’t coded for this door, so how was he supposed to get in if nobody answered the door? 

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Koujaku knocked on the door. A few moments passed, and nobody came, so he knocked again. Still, nothing. Koujaku, concerned now, brought up last night’s group chat. 

**Kansuzume:** Problem here  
**RuffRabbit:** what  
**Kansuzume:** I can’t get into his apartment, and he’s not answering the door  
**RuffRabbit:** well, at least you managed that much. what’s the lock like  
**Kansuzume:** I’m supposed to scan my coil  
**RuffRabbit:** who made it  
**Kansuzume:** The lock? Toschaka.  
****RuffRabbit has added a new file to this conversation.****  
**RuffRabbit:** download and install that and then scan your Coil  
**Kansuzume:** Is it going to break my coil?  
**RuffRabbit:** of course not, I’m a professional, dumbass. and you’re lucky I woke up to help you. make it snappy so I can go back to bed

Channelling his inner Beni, Koujaku wrote, “Thanks, I think,” and closed the chat. After installing the file RuffRabbit had sent him, he knocked on the door one last time. Still, nothing. He raised his Coil to the scanner beside the door, and it turned green. The lock clicked. 

Koujaku put his hand on the door handle, feeling like some kind of criminal. He had lied, picked Bluejay’s lock, and now he was just going to just barge in unannounced. He could only hope that Bluejay would understand. Steeling himself for what might lie on the other side of the door, Koujaku turned the handle, opened the door, and stepped inside.

As soon as the door was shut behind him, Koujaku slumped against the door frame in defeat. The room before him was stripped bare. Bluejay was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fake name on Koujaku's invitation is Akai Tori. The literal translation of this is Red Bird. You're welcome.
> 
> Maybe I’m projecting about Koujaku's feelings at getting up so early, but it _is_ 5AM. Even if you’re an early riser, this is pretty shitty.  
>  Also I changed where the exit of the tunnel was because I didn’t want to write that stupid bear. Besides, why would an abandoned tunnel lead to a working entrance, anyway? 
> 
> Also I made up the lock company. And Tomonori. 
> 
> Also I don't have a clue how Beni can just sit on Koujaku's shoulder like that without falling off when Koujaku moves. He must have really good balance. 
> 
> Lol, I know, I'm a horrible tease. Everyone has been commenting about it. Sorry, everyone ^^;;
> 
> Feed me comments so I can grow STRONG and write more chapters


	22. A Light in the Hallway

The first floor of Bluejay’s apartment was fully furnished, containing two sofas, a coffee table, and two end-tables with lamps. There was a china cabinet against the wall and a kitchen beyond it. But that was about it. All of the personal touches Koujaku had expected to see were gone, and it was obvious that Bluejay had left in a hurry. There were still strips of blue-tack on the walls from unknown posters, while the generic prints that had come with the apartment were all haphazardly piled on the sofas and the coffee table. A full-to bursting trashcan had been abandoned beside the door, and one of the two table lamps had been knocked over onto its side. The apartment was not only devoid of life, but the state of the trash can made it clear that it had been abandoned very, very recently. 

“Shit,” Koujaku said to the empty room. What should he do now? He hadn’t come all this way just to see a vacant apartment. What was he going to tell Noiz and Clear? Uneasily, Koujaku wondered if he was too late. What if Cockatiel had beat him here? There were no suspicious marks on the walls or the wood floor that might indicate a struggle. The overturned lamp wasn’t actually broken, but an atmosphere of shock hung over the apartment, an unnatural stillness. For some reason, Koujaku found himself dreading going upstairs to the bedroom. There was no reason he should, but he had to know, had to be sure – was Bluejay really gone? And if so, had he left this place of his own volition? 

It was stupid to assume that there were no unpleasant surprises waiting for him in the apartment, so Koujaku put his hand on the sheath of his sword, just in case. A quick list of possibilities flitted through his head – Bluejay could be here, hiding, injured, or in the worst case, dead. Cockatiel might be here, waiting to spring an ambush on anyone who came in. Koujaku slipped his shoes off and left them beside the door. Stepping as softly as he knew how, Koujaku spared a quick glance for the kitchen before heading for the stairs. As his eyes scanned the room, alert for any sign of life or movement, Koujaku noted two things: dirty dishes in the sink, several hours old, and a shiny stripe of dust cleared down the centre of the stairs, like something had been dragged up or down them. Koujaku’s misgivings grew. 

On the top floor there was a rec room with a little bar, which looked untouched except for the strange configuration of furniture. Koujaku noted the sofa pushed up against the bar with some confusion, but it didn’t give him any clues as to the location of Bluejay and Cockatiel, so he ignored it. Around the corner, there was a hallway with two doors which ended in a balcony. Koujaku presumed the two inside doors were bedrooms. As he went to open the first, Koujaku froze. If his ears weren’t deceiving him, there was sound coming from behind the second door. 

Koujaku stood stock-still, listening as intently as he could. The sound he could hear was quiet, so quiet Koujaku had to hold his breath to catch it. But if he wasn’t mistaken, someone was whispering behind that closed door. Someone with a very low voice. Cockatiel? 

“Who’s there?” Koujaku said loudly, reaching for the hilt of his sword. Instantly, the voice went dead silent – if it had really been there to begin with, and not just a TV left on or a figment of Koujaku’s imagination. But Koujaku wasn’t taking any chances. 

“Show yourself,” Koujaku insisted. Again, he strained his ears for any signs of life, poised and ready to swing his sword and cut down anyone who emerged from the room. He heard a quiet thump, and then silence. 

The doorknob clicked, and Koujaku tensed. Almost soundless on its oiled hinges, the bedroom door began to open. Then it stopped. Koujaku stared in confusion as out stepped a small, blue, furry – 

“Ren?” Koujaku said in disbelief. For a moment he was convinced that he must be mistaken, because there was no way that Ao- that this Allmate could be here, in this apartment in Glitter, miles away from its own and Koujaku’s home. But how could it be a mistake? Although there were many blue Spitz Allmates, there was only one in the whole world with a syringe on its collar.

Ren, if it was indeed him, seemed equally taken aback at seeing Koujaku, one tiny forepaw raised and head cocked to one side as he looked up at him. Koujaku stood frozen, unsure whether to lower his hand from his sword. His heart was pounding like it was about to explode.

“Koujaku,” Ren said, his deep voice ringing out in the tense stillness of the hallway. There were so many questions Koujaku wanted to ask, but there was one that was so, so much more important than any other. 

Koujaku looked directly into Ren’s black eyes. “Ren,” he said, “where is Aoba?”

Ren blinked rapidly, probably calculating the optimum reply or something, but before he could open his mouth, the bedroom door cracked open just a little bit further. A familiar blue-haired figure appeared shyly in the doorway, then stepped out into the hall. 

“Here,” Aoba said. “I’m here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what you all were hoping would happen in the last chapter, isn't it...? XD
> 
> So this fic was supposed to only make use of DMMD music, but the title is totally a reference to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xlppyBJhLnc) absolutely beautiful Pentatonix (a capella) song. You NEED to listen to it. Imagine that Koujaku is singing this to Aoba, or vice versa. Ugh, I love this song so much.
> 
> I changed the description of Aoba's apartment slightly from the CGs in the game, mostly for effect. Theoretically, all of these changes are ones he could have done himself anyway. 
> 
> Just so you guys know, this is the longest fic, possibly the longest thing I've ever written - without counting the author's notes! (Lol). It is also the longest thing I've ever written in one sitting. If I manage to finish it (touch wood), the DMMD fandom will be truly blessed XD
> 
> Comments and questions always welcome.


	23. At Last

Koujaku's hand dropped from his sword. A stunned silence filled the hallway for a moment, and then Koujaku was moving without even thinking about it, just a few steps taking him to arm's reach of Aoba. Aoba looked – well, he looked tired, stressed, and hunted, with dark circles under his eyes, and a wrinkled, overlarge t-shirt instead of his normal fashionable attire. His hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail that surely had to be hurting him. Koujaku couldn't help it - he reached out and pulled Aoba into a hug.

“Aoba,” Koujaku said in a choked voice, his chest tight. “Thank god. I missed you so much.” Aoba was warm and solid in Koujaku's arms, a little on the thin side but otherwise whole, thank goodness. 

“What are you doing here? Why did you break into my apartment?” Aoba said, angry yet making no attempt to pull away. Koujaku knew Aoba well enough to understand that he was undergoing some kind of deep emotion, probably relief, and was trying to disguise it by pretending to be angry. Resisting the urge to start patting Aoba down to see if he was injured, Koujaku pulled away. Feeling a strange rush of relief and love, Koujaku answered as gently as he could. 

“You didn’t answer the door,” he said simply. Aoba was frowning at him, but it was a confused frown, not an antagonistic one. Aoba was close, so close, still, and Koujaku wanted - he just wanted - well. Koujaku could hold Aoba forever if given the chance, but Aoba probably wouldn't like that very much, so Koujaku took another little step back and leaned against the wall, admiring Aoba from afar.

“Yes, but why are you _here_?” Aoba insisted. Ren, who had been standing beside them, nudged Aoba's ankle with his nose, prompting Aoba to pick him up and hold him defensively in front of him. As for Koujaku, he didn’t really know how to answer Aoba's question. Suddenly his thoughts were all in a jumble, and just thinking about the events of last night and this morning was making his head spin. How could he explain to Aoba about how he had gotten involved in all this? Should he even try?

“Bluejay,” he said at last. “Your friends on the internet sent me to make sure you were safe. Aoba, is Cockatiel Mink? Do you know where he is?”

“If you didn’t know Mink was Cockatiel, how did you know I was Bluejay? Did Noiz hack my computer?” Aoba said suspiciously, ignoring Koujaku’s question. 

Poking his head up from Aoba’s encircling arms, Ren said, “Mink is in Platinum Jail. However, am I am uncertain as to his exact current location. The chances of him locating us at random are less than one percent.”

Koujaku nodded. As always, there was a rush of anger at hearing Mink's name, but it was so muted and far away compared to the realness of _Aoba_ standing right in front of him. “I didn’t know you were Bluejay. I came here expecting to find a stranger,” he admitted. Aoba started in surprise. For his part, Koujaku didn’t have the faintest idea of how to start dealing with the knowledge that Aoba was Bluejay. All those things Aoba had posted, all those things Koujaku had read… what did they all mean? The little plastic keychain hanging from Koujaku’s obi felt like it was burning a hole in his yukata, and Koujaku himself burned to know the truth. 

“And you got me,” Aoba said defiantly, tilting his chin upwards. Like an imaginary Bluejay was somehow preferable to a real Aoba. Never, never, never. Aoba was Bluejay, and Aoba was safe, and that was what mattered. Thank god.

“I can’t believe it,” Koujaku said, grinning sheepishly. Then, feeling like he should be reassuring, he added, “But I’m so happy to see you. This is much better than just some guy whose music I like.”

Aoba turned away, and Koujaku could have sworn that he was blushing. “Don’t say sappy things like that, or I’ll kick you out. Look, what are you going to do now that you found me? Go back to Midorijima?”

Koujaku instantly rejected the idea of going back to Midorijima. Sure, his life was on Midorijima, but there was no way he was going to lose Aoba so soon after finding him again. The idea of leaving now was inconceivable. He had so many things to say, and he needed time to sort them all out, and he was going to do it here, and now, in Aoba's presence. Not back at home, pining away and going through the motions. So Koujaku said, “I’ll stay.”

Aoba looked like he was going to protest, so Koujaku quickly added, “And I’ll keep Mink away from you – if that’s what you want.” 

Aoba blinked in surprise, then looked down at Ren. “Actually, I was going to leave,” Aoba admitted. Koujaku thought back to the disorder downstairs that had set him on edge when he first came in. Aoba must have been packing to run away.

“If we accept Koujaku’s help, the chances of beating Mink in a fair fight are 79%,” Ren said. Koujaku laughed. 

“Not if I use my sword,” he said, patting the sheath of his blade. 

“In that case, I estimate our chances of success at 89%,” Ren said. Aoba smiled in spite of himself, but all of a sudden he looked very tired again. For a moment, Aoba seemed torn. He looked fixedly down at Ren, not meeting Koujaku’s eyes. Koujaku found himself angry. In the joy of being in Aoba’s presence for the first time in months, it was easy to forget that Aoba himself had been living in fear. _Mink_. Koujaku burned to make him pay for what he had done, but he kept his expression neutral as he waited for Aoba's reply.

At last, Aoba looked straight at Koujaku and said determinedly, “Fine. You can have the guest room. And tell Noiz to stop butting in to other people’s business.”

Koujaku grinned. Thinking of contacting Noiz reminded him that Aoba had better make a phone call soon or they would both be getting some unwanted attention. “Aoba, you should call the Monocle. They threatened to call the police to this address if you didn’t contact them to say I didn’t kidnap you,” Koujaku said.

“You went to the club?” Aoba said warily, setting Ren down on the floor. Koujaku wasn’t sure why Aoba was concerned, unless he was worried that Koujaku had let himself get roughed up by those weak-looking bouncers. 

“Yes, why?” Koujaku said.

“Never mind. I’ll go call them,” Aoba said, shaking his head. He put his hand on the doorframe to his room and made as if to go in, then stopped and looked directly at Koujaku’s face, expression unreadable. “After this, let’s talk, okay? You can go anywhere in the apartment and eat the food if you want. Sorry about the mess.”

Though Aoba’s “let’s talk” made Koujaku’s heart leap with nervousness, he nodded. Maybe it wasn’t really nerves – maybe it was anticipation, Koujaku didn’t know. There were so many things that he had to ask Aoba, that he wanted to know, but he was afraid of the answers.

“See you in a sec,” Aoba said, going back into his room, Ren trotting along behind him. Koujaku watched them go, then steeled himself and went into the guest bedroom, as Aoba had invited him. His head was such a confusing mix of relief, joy, love, excitement, apprehension, and anger towards Mink, he barely realised how exhausted he was – but as soon as he sat down on the edge of the bed, a wave of tiredness threatened to overwhelm him. Wearily, he set Beni on the bedside table and leaned his sword up against the wall, then turned to his Coil and opened his messaging app.

 **Kansuzume:** I found Bluejay  
**Crystal_Jelly:** Is he okay?  
**Kansuzume:** Yes, he’s fine. Cockatiel isn’t here, I don’t know where he is. Ruff, your plan to get the address nearly got me kicked out of platinum jail. That’s all the news.  
**mizu_hi:** wait hows pj n whats sly like  
**Kansuzume:** I’m exhausted. Bluejay is letting me sleep here for now, so I’ll tell you later.  
**mizu_hi:** wait when do u think ull be home  
**Kansuzume:** I’ll message you privately about it  
**RuffRabbit:** leave the man alone, mizu_hi. he’s done us all a service, even if he did bitch about it  
**Crystal_Jelly:** Thank you so much, Kansuzume-san! I’m very happy to know that Blue-san is okay!  
**Kansuzume:** No problem. Bye, everyone.

Before Koujaku could close his Coil and lie down for a minute – he didn’t plan on actually sleeping since Aoba would probably be done with his phone call soon – Mizuki private messaged him. 

**mizu_hi:** so when r u coming back

Koujaku didn’t particularly want to have this conversation, because then he would have to explain about Aoba – but maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Mizuki, of all people, would be most able to understand Koujaku’s confusing emotions about Aoba being Bluejay, or Bluejay being Aoba. Also, it would have to come out eventually, and Mizuki would want to know why he hadn’t heard first-hand from Koujaku the moment of if Koujaku kept the news to himself. 

Thus reasoned, Koujaku decided to tell Mizuki the truth, trusting in his ability to keep Bluejay/Aoba’s identity secret for the both of them. 

**Kansuzume:** Probably not for a couple of days  
**mizu_hi:** what why not  
**Kansuzume:** Bluejay needs my help  
**mizu_hi:** lol what  
**mizu_hi:** r u gonna b his birb in shining armour thats so cute

Koujaku rolled his eyes, but Mizuki’s flippant replies were making his resolve falter. Better break the news quickly before he lost it altogether. 

**Kansuzume:** Stop fucking around. Bluejay isn’t just anyone. It’s Aoba.

The thirty seconds it took for Mizuki to type out his reply were very, very tense for Koujaku.

 **mizu_hi:** ur joking right  
**Kansuzume:** No. Bluejay is Seragaki Aoba.  
**mizu_hi:** holy shit  
**mizu_hi:** n cockatiels gotta b that worthless bf he had  
**mizu_hi:** mank or sthg right  
**mizu_hi:** is he ok? seriously tho

Was Aoba okay? It was hard to tell if his exhaustion and stress were the kind that could be resolved with a good, long nap, or if they were something deeper, more permanent. The urge to run to Aoba, help him let down his hair and hold him close enough to feel his heartbeat had not gone away. 

Yeah, there was no way Mizuki was ever going to know any of that. 

**Kansuzume:** He looks tired  
**mizu_hi:** hes probably stressed  
**Kansuzume:** I’ll take care of him  
**mizu_hi:** yeah u always were the protective type  
**mizu_hi:** listen if u see mank u pound his face in for me ok  
**Kansuzume:** You don’t need to encourage me  
**mizu_hi:** haha maybe not  
**mizu_hi:** listen big guy u get some sleep and u take care of aoba  
**mizu_hi:** if ur not back in a week dry juice is moving into ur territory tho  
**Kansuzume:** Not if you want to live  
**mizu_hi:** lol don’t worry  
**mizu_hi:** good luck

And with that, Koujaku lay back on the pillows and fell soundly asleep. 

[ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_PF9jvYFNIA)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is "At Last" because I've been waiting to post this chapter since August!  
> Also, that song and its title and author are correct. This is Koujaku's good end song from Re:Connect. His bad end song won't be in this fic, so don't hold your breath. (It's just called "Tears" anyway). Also it should be fairly obvious bc there are a lot of unresolved things, but this isn't the end of this fic, so don't worry XD
> 
> I know it was a little mean to post chapter 22 and then leave you hanging, but I didn't originally write a hug into this chapter and I figured y'all deserved it. 
> 
> obi = fabric belt worn around a kimono - the thing that ties in the bow in the back. Thinner for men than for women (and worn lower on the waist as well). Koujaku's is cream/yellow with small suns in hexagons embroidered onto it. 
> 
> Feedback always welcome!  
> I'd like to give a shout-out to my most frequent commenters: ohminto, Kazan, kimmico, and creepycat16. Special shout-out to AoYokai, who is a bae on tumblr and has commented on this fic a couple of times too. Thank you to everyone else who has commented, you guys are the best. I look forward to reading all of your comments and I just wanted to say thanks (again, like I do) for making it fun to post this fic online. ♥


	24. Catch the Fall

When Aoba heard Koujaku’s door click shut he sat down hard on the bed, bouncing Ren by accident. Ren was already sitting on the bed because the floor was almost completely covered with all of Aoba’s stuff. As part of his packing frenzy he had dragged everything he owned into his bedroom to start throwing it into bags and boxes, since he didn’t have a suitcase to his name. Now he would probably have to put everything back where it had come from, basically undoing an entire night’s work. It was so weird to think that twelve hours ago Aoba’s main emotion had been panic. Now he was just exhausted and a little freaked out. 

Koujaku was here. _Koujaku_. Seeing him again was – well, amazing and awkward all at the same time. There was so much unsaid between them, a massive gulf of truths and admissions that were all clamouring to come out at once. Even though Aoba had been very distracted by his own emotions, he had noticed that Koujaku seemed very unsure. For a moment, Aoba had seen relief and gratitude in Koujaku’s face – he could have sworn it. But after that, it was just a mask. Had Koujaku always looked like that? Aoba didn’t know. Then there was the fact that Koujaku had hugged him, which gave Aoba totally opposite feelings to his worries about Koujaku’s apparent emotionlessness. Aoba would never admit it, but if Koujaku wanted to hug him like that every day for the rest of his life, that would be pretty okay. Aoba imagined a quick flash of Koujaku’s lips on his and shut it down hard.

So what was Koujaku thinking about all of this? If Koujaku was a fan of Sly Blue, he probably had an Ensou account. And if he had an Ensou account, Aoba had an idea of what his username was. To begin with, the fact that Koujaku called him “Bluejay” instead of “Sly Blue” was a massive hint. Then, there was the fact that he was friends with Mizuki. Lastly, it absolutely hadn’t escaped Aoba’s notice that Koujaku had a Redbird keychain hanging from his obi. Koujaku _had_ to be Kansuzume. It had the same kanji as in his own name, for crying out loud. 

Which meant that Koujaku was in love with someone, a potentially male someone, and Aoba was really, really hoping that it was him. Because if not, the fact that Koujaku identified so much with all the songs about Redbird was going to be… 

Phew. Aoba breathed out hard, aware that his emotions were totally wrecked from all the stress and lack of sleep. Time to call the Monocle before his boss threw a fit. 

The phone call took only about ten minutes. Irritatingly enough, Aoba still had to go into work in about 6 hours. With Koujaku here, Aoba didn’t have an excuse not to go, though he would have liked some more time to make some contingency plans with him. 

And talk about Redbird. 

But never mind that now. What Aoba really wanted was a nap. Just a short one, though. 

“Ren, wake me in an hour or if Koujaku knocks,” Aoba said, pushing some random clothing off the bed and onto the keyboard, which was sitting on the floor with its legs folded up. 

“Roger,” Ren said. Aoba gingerly untangled his hair from its too-tight ponytail, then sighed in relief and flopped down into a comfortable position. Closing his eyes, he was totally unaware that Koujaku was dreaming right beside him on the other side of the wall. 

\---

Something sharp was digging into Aoba’s ankle. He twitched, then gave a little kick as the pain failed to dissipate. 

“Aoba.”

Someone was saying his name… but he was so comfortable…

“Aoba.”

The sharp thing was still… sharp. It was… not good. Ugh…

“Aoba, get up. It’s almost noon.”

Ren’s voice. Noon? What is… noon. 

Ho shit. It’s noon. 

Even with the urgency of knowing half the day was gone, Aoba still had trouble opening his eyes. First blink confirmed that there was Koujaku, standing in the doorway.

Shit! What?

Aoba blinked again, and Koujaku was still there. The sharp thing digging into his ankle was a box he had left on the bed in the mess from last night. He had a sneaking suspicion Ren might have shoved it into his leg on purpose to wake him. 

And Koujaku was still there, looking distinctly uncomfortable because he couldn’t actually come into the room with all the stuff on the ground. Okay. 

“Hi,” Aoba said weakly, dragging himself upright and giving a huge yawn. “Ren, you were supposed to wake me,” Aoba said, without any real force. His Coil confirmed the time: 11:25 AM, three hours later than when he had fallen asleep. Three hours of sleep was really not enough sleep, Aoba reflected hazily.

“Did you call your boss?” Koujaku said. Aoba sensed that he was just looking for something to say, since the lack of police at the door made it pretty clear that Aoba had.

“Yep,” Aoba said, stretching. When he looked up again, Koujaku was looking at him funnily, with his lips pressed together like he was restraining himself from saying something. “Um, sorry to keep you waiting,” Aoba said, and Koujaku’s brow relaxed. 

“I fell asleep too,” he admitted. “I got up pretty early. Noiz thought you were going to try and get on the 9:00 ferry.” Out of the corner of his eye, Aoba saw Ren shaking his head in amusement.

“I don’t have a car,” Aoba said without thinking. Truth be told, his whole plan of temporarily leaving Platinum Jail had been really ill-conceived and probably a mistake. Thank goodness Koujaku had showed up at the last minute, like a her- um. “Never mind that. Are you hungry?”

“I regret to inform you that the refrigerator is currently 75% vacant,” Ren said from the foot of the bed, and Aoba groaned. Now Koujaku was going to think he wasn’t taking care of himself or something. Before Mink had shown up, Aoba had planned to go grocery shopping this morning. But unfortunately, Ren was probably right. At last check, there was nothing in the fridge but a carton of eggs, some already-cooked rice, and a couple of other random leftovers.

“I’ll find something,” Aoba said. 

Ten minutes later, Aoba shut the door of the refrigerator and leaned against the counter in defeat. “Take out it is,” he said, and looked up in time to catch Koujaku smothering a laugh under his palm. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Aoba said, a little bit peeved. Using his Coil, he looked up and called a local pizza place and got two pizzas for delivery, thinking that they might have to subsist on takeout for a couple of days. Everything in Platinum Jail was overpriced, but this pizza place was the least overpriced restaurant Aoba knew of in the area. After he hung up the phone, Aoba turned back to Koujaku, who was sitting at the kitchen table and gently teasing Ren. Aoba smiled at how domestic the two of them looked until Koujaku met his eyes.

It wasn’t that things necessarily became tense, although they were a bit awkward. It felt more like a sense of anticipation, and not a very good one. Well, whatever Koujaku was thinking, Aoba wanted to address it right away. So he sat down at the table opposite Koujaku, and Ren hopped onto the chair next to him and disappeared under the table to give the two of them some privacy. Aoba wasted a few moments wondering if he should just put Ren into sleep mode, mostly trying to distract himself from having to actually look at Koujaku. 

“So,” Koujaku said, breaking the silence. “You’re famous.”

His tone was light and teasing, but Koujaku’s curiosity was almost palpable. If he was Koujaku, Aoba thought, what would he want to know first?

…Apart from the identity of Redbird. 

“I guess so,” Aoba said sheepishly. His follower count was what, 12,000 now? That definitely counted as being famous. 

“I didn’t know you could draw,” Koujaku said, and Aoba laughed. 

“Clear draws all the pictures for me. He was the one who came up with the designs,” Aoba explained, and Koujaku nodded thoughtfully. 

Aoba expected the next question to be something Redbird related, but instead Koujaku leaned across the table, looked into Aoba’s eyes, and said, “Are you okay?”

Was Aoba okay? Okay with what?

“You mean… with being famous?” Aoba said, confused. Koujaku let out a short, surprised laugh. 

“No, I meant, how are you now that Mink is gone and you’re living here? How’s Platinum Jail? Have you told Sei you’re here?”

Koujaku’s eyes were filled with compassion, and Aoba swallowed, warmth spreading through his chest. Somehow, Aoba had forgotten just what a kind and considerate person Koujaku really was, asking about Aoba’s feelings instead of interrogating him about all the more interesting, music-related stuff. 

“Platinum Jail’s cool, I guess,” Aoba said. “Everything is really expensive, and the only place with night and day in it is this apartment. Outside you can always see the stars, which is pretty nice, but I miss the sun, you know?” Aoba gestured vaguely at the windows. “And yeah, Sei and Granny both know I’m here, ‘cuz I called Sei and I sent a letter to Granny. Um,” Aoba said, pausing as he recalled how Sei had asked him if he wanted Koujaku to know that he was in Platinum Jail or not. If Aoba had said yes, maybe Koujaku would have been less surprised to see him. Hopefully Koujaku wouldn’t be mad, but now Aoba felt bad for not having told him beforehand. “I asked them not to tell anyone I was here. I… I didn’t want anyone to know what I was doing in case I failed,” Aoba admitted, looking down at the wood grain on the table-top. 

“It’s fine,” Koujaku said, reaching across the table to briefly clasp Aoba’s shoulder. They briefly made eye contact, and Aoba was relieved to see that Koujaku looked completely understanding. 

This gave Aoba the courage to look up again, just as Koujaku said, “I’ve been looking after Sei for you. He and Cerise are just fine.”

A kind of understanding passed between them, and Aoba smiled gratefully. What Koujaku meant was that he had taken it upon himself to check up on Sei in Aoba’s absence and try to be there for him like Aoba would have done. Aoba knew that Koujaku had always cared for the both of them, but Sei was much more fragile than Aoba was. So Koujaku going the extra mile for Sei – it meant a lot to Aoba, as well as to Sei, probably. 

“Yeah, he’s been feeling pretty okay lately,” Aoba said, since Sei’s emotions had been pretty stable as far as he could tell since returning to Midorijima. They were a little far away, so it was hard for them to dream together, but the worst emotional event for Sei in the past two weeks had been some slight anxiety, nothing more. 

“And you?” Koujaku prompted. Aoba thought back to the past two days and gave a weak and sheepish grin.

“I was doing fine before Mink showed up,” Aoba said. Koujaku looked him up and down with a critical eye, and Aoba hoped that he was passing inspection, though he should have probably changed his shirt before getting up. “The apartment was neat and everything. I like my job, too. It’s just – when I saw him, I panicked, okay?” Aoba sighed with frustration, the mask dropping. “I guess he has the right to want to talk to me in person, but with him, it’s never really a conversation. So what does he think – never mind. I just, I don’t want to see him again. Ever.”

Nodding, Koujaku said calmly, “I will cut that bastard to pieces if he tries to lay a hand on you.”

Aoba started. “Um, I said I didn’t want to see him, not that I want you to kill him,” he said. 

“I’m not going to kill anyone,” Koujaku said, sounding unreasonably flustered for someone who should have been stating a blatantly obvious fact. “Listen, can I ask you something?” Koujaku continued, like he was trying to change the subject or something. 

“Sure,” Aoba said.

“Why did you decide to go out with Mink in the first place?” Koujaku asked.

Aoba caught himself being surprised at the question, but really, he should have seen it coming. And he might have, if he hadn’t been thinking Koujaku was going to start off with a question about Redbird. How long had it been since the two of them had sat down like this to talk? Too long, obviously. Well, Aoba hated thinking about Mink these days when he was trying to move on with his life, but… he owed Koujaku an explanation. Of everyone he knew, Koujaku was the one who deserved it most. 

“Did Sei tell you what I was like in high school, when you were on the mainland?” Aoba asked, half hoping Koujaku already knew so that he wouldn’t have to explain.

“Sei? No,” Koujaku said. “Oh, you mean – Mizuki said you were sleeping around. With both women… and men.” Though Aoba didn’t see how his past behaviour was any different to Koujaku’s sleeping around now, Koujaku looked a little uncomfortable talking about it. Was it because of the men? Never mind that now. Aoba pressed on.

“He didn’t tell you anything else?”

Koujaku shook his head, looking confused and a little apprehensive. How much should Aoba tell him? Only enough for Koujaku to understand.

“You remember how I used to use Scrap a lot?” Aoba said doubtfully. 

“Yes,” said Koujaku, folding his arms. 

When no commentary was forthcoming, Aoba took a deep breath. If telling this to Clear had been hard, telling it to Koujaku was even harder. “I wasn’t in control of it,” he admitted. “Every time I used it, it felt like someone else was controlling my body. And I was angry almost all of the time, but I don’t know why. It was awful. And Mink – Mink helped me learn to control myself again.”

As he spoke, Aoba unconsciously hunched in over himself protectively, feeling his chest grow hollow and cold as all the memories of that time rose up unbidden. 

“Aoba, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…” Koujaku said, sounding shocked. When Aoba risked a glance up at Koujaku, he saw dismay and upset written all over his features.

“You weren’t even on Midorijima for most of it, so you better not be blaming yourself,” Aoba said, the words sticking in his throat. If Koujaku had been there, how would things have turned out? Bad, probably, just a different kind of bad. “Just don’t be so hard on Mink. He tried to help me, that’s all.”

Koujaku’s face darkened, features contorting in disgust before he got himself back under control. Through gritted teeth Koujaku said, “That bastard took you away from our family and kept you like a possession. I don’t care if it was to help you, nobody has the right to treat you like that.”

Well of course Aoba knew that now, but he didn’t think Koujaku understood what he was trying to say. His stomach churned. Maybe it shouldn’t matter, but Aoba wanted Koujaku to understand what kind of person Aoba used to be, if only so it didn’t feel like a big, nasty secret festering between them. 

Shoulders hunching even further, Aoba said quietly, “I hurt a lot of people too, you know.”

Koujaku slammed his hand down on the table. “No,” he snapped, his knuckles white. “I don’t care what you did. Mink treated you like shit, and I won’t forgive it. That guy is an asshole, and he doesn’t deserve you sitting here and trying to defend him, you got it? I know you – I – Shit,” Koujaku said, abruptly shutting his mouth, the ferocious scowl fading from his face. Aoba cocked his head and looked up at Koujaku, frowning.

“Aoba,” Koujaku started, looking at Aoba with wide, freaked-out eyes. “I’m sorry. I meant – I just meant –”

Aoba didn’t know what was going on with Koujaku’s outburst of anger, but he was willing to chalk it up to Koujaku just being really concerned about him. Now the poor guy looked like he was going to crawl under the table in shame just because he had raised his voice – which just showed what a compassionate person Koujaku was. Aoba opened his mouth so they could just laugh it off, and –

And the doorbell rang, scaring the crap out of both Aoba and Koujaku. With a scrabbling of claws on wood, Ren hopped off the chair, shot under the table and between Aoba and Koujaku’s chairs, and headed straight for the door. 

It took Aoba a moment to realise - “The food,” Aoba said in dismay. “I’ll get it.”

Hastening to the door with Ren by his side, Aoba tried to paste a polite smile onto his face and act like nothing interesting was happening, nothing at all. Even though he wanted strangle the delivery guy, he calmly took both pizzas and scanned his Coil for payment so fast he didn’t even remember what the guy’s face looked like five seconds later when the door shut behind him. Aoba and Ren returned to the kitchen together, Ren’s little tail wagging like nothing had happened, and Aoba seething internally at the interruption.

Koujaku was sitting where Aoba had left him, looking down at the table and using both hands to play with his bangs and looking like he expected Aoba to just kick him out of the apartment. Aoba set the boxes down on the counter, trying to act like nothing had happened. Instead of sitting down at the table again, Aoba hoisted himself onto the counter and sat next to the pizza boxes instead. 

“Stop looking like that,” Aoba ordered, popping open the top box. The smell of hot cheese filled the kitchen and Aoba’s stomach growled quietly. Studiously looking down at his pizza slice, he said, “I’m not mad, okay? You’re right. I just wanted to tell you what happened. Because it was bad, and you didn’t know. That’s all.”

Aoba was still looking down at his pizza slice, so he heard rather than saw the skittering of Koujaku’s chair against the wood floor as he stood. 

“I’m sorry for yelling,” Koujaku said, walking slowly towards Aoba. When he reached him, he paused and hovered uncertainly until Aoba looked up. 

“Hey,” said Koujaku, eyes soft at the corners. “You’re a good person, Aoba.” 

Aoba swallowed, and Koujaku reached out and awkwardly brushed a crumb off of Aoba’s face with his thumb, then turned to the pizza box and pulled out a slice. The brief moment of contact didn’t pass unnoticed for Aoba – Koujaku had always been a little touchy, especially for a guy, but what the heck was that? Seemed like evidence for the ‘Koujaku is Kansuzume’ theory, to Aoba. 

“So about tonight,” Aoba started, as Koujaku took a bite of his pizza, then pulled a face at how greasy it was. “I have work from two to six, so, like, soon. I just need to you to come with me, keep an eye out for Mink in the audience, and then we’re going to leave by the back door so he can’t catch us. It’s what I did last time.”

Koujaku swallowed, frowning. “But don’t you want to get it over with?” he said.

“Get what over with?” Aoba said through a mouthful of cheese. Ugh, nothing ever tasted as good as it did when he was really, really hungry. Like now. He could inhale this pizza. That sounded about right. 

“Seeing Mink,” Koujaku clarified. “Otherwise he’ll just come back.”

“Well, he’ll just have to keep coming back, because if I make a scene in front of paying customers my boss is not going to be pleased, and he’s already pissed about this whole thing to begin with. I think the only reason he’s been this understanding so far is because people expect real musicians to have shitty personal lives, and I guess he read the stuff on my Ensou,” Aoba explained, and Koujaku nodded. 

“You don’t want to make him meet you somewhere and tell him to fuck off in person?” Koujaku asked.

“Not going to give him the satisfaction of talking to him voluntarily,” Aoba said, shrugging, and Koujaku let out a small chuckle. 

There was momentary silence as Aoba started on his second slice, and Koujaku looked thoughtful about something. 

“Hey, Aoba…” Koujaku started hesitantly. “If things get… violent, how much am I allowed – er, what do you want me to do to him?”

Aoba snorted. “I can’t believe you just asked me that,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Don’t hurt him too much. If he seriously tries to attack you, I’ll just use Scrap on him.”

Koujaku actually looked disappointed about that, Aoba noted incredulously. Still, he nodded in agreement as he took another slice of pizza. 

“I can do that,” Koujaku said firmly. “How long do we have until the show?”

“An hour,” Aoba said, looking down at his Coil. 

“An hour?” Koujaku echoed. “That’s – okay.”

“Yeah, let’s hurry up,” Aoba said, reaching for another slice of pizza. That’s when he realised that the box was already half empty – between the two of them, they had consumed half a pizza in less than fifteen minutes. When was the last time Aoba had eaten? Oh, right. Lunch yesterday. Clearly, having Koujaku here was good for his health. 

Surprising him yet again, Koujaku said, “I bet it’s going to be a great performance, Aoba.”

That was the first time anyone had ever wished Aoba luck with his DJing, fan or not. 

“Thanks,” Aoba said, a little shyly, and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **GUYS I NEED YOUR HELP.** I’m putting together a Kou/Ao playlist for this fic and I would love your suggestions for stuff to put on it! The first half is all electronic songs like the DMMD soundtrack (think [Ai Catch](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gZC76aQqxuc)/that kind of thing), and the second is softer, like [A Light In The Hallway](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xlppyBJhLnc). Any suggestions will be super appreciated!  
>  **EDIT: I have finished the beta version of the list, and I will provide a link to the finished playlist in the last chapter's notes. But I'm always open to song suggestions, so feel free to comment!**
> 
> \-----------------------
> 
> Okay, so about Koujaku/Kansuzume.  
> This: 江雀 is the kanji for Koujaku.  
> This: 寒雀 is the kanji for Kansuzume.  
> As you can see, they both end in 雀, the kanji for "sparrow". That's why Aoba thinks it's obvious that Koujaku and Kansuzume are the same person. 
> 
> Look at [this sprite](http://voxiferous.tumblr.com/post/152219575732/so-i-made-a-fusion-sprite-edited-by-me-but-all) I edited of Koujaku and Aoba's fusion/lovechild. What a cute
> 
> Fun fact about Milky Weeds: I made the original idea around a year ago, and am only just now writing it. I think it had to percolate a little (a little?). It was super different in its original incarnation. In that one, it was Granny who forcibly dragged Aoba away from Mink’s house, and _then_ he started making music. Noiz didn’t have anything more than a cameo, and Clear was just like… not there at all. I’m pretty sure that I didn’t even think about Mizuki and Sei. Ren was just a furry piece of furniture. The idea was that Aoba would overhear Koujaku confiding in Granny that he loved him, mistaken his words for something else, and run off to Platinum Jail to learn to be independent. Now that I think about it, that version of this fic would have been absolute shit if I had tried to write it back then. So the moral of the story is… planning is good for you, I guess?
> 
> My original projected word-count for this was 80,000 words. Now… more like 95,000. However, school is kicking my ass right now. Hold on to your hats. 
> 
> P.S. I changed the chapter title because I hated it
> 
> Questions and comments always welcome!


	25. Please This

After they ate, Aoba went to have a shower, then started getting ready to go to work. While Aoba was upstairs getting dressed or whatever it was he was doing, Koujaku himself took a shower too, since he hadn’t had time for one last night, what with Aoba’s friends asking him to break into Platinum Jail and then getting up at some ungodly hour of the morning and all. Now that Koujaku was rested and fed, he felt almost human again. And more importantly, capable of rational thought. As he stood in the shower and felt his muscles relax in the warm water, he mentally berated himself for losing his temper in front of Aoba like that. 

Koujaku got angry a lot, but it was rare for him to really lose it. Of course it was, since he’d spent so long finessing the art of swallowing his own emotions before they snowballed out of control. But there were a few things he still had trouble with – his tattoos and everything relating to them, and Mink, apparently. Fortunately, he had caught himself in time this time, and Aoba hadn’t even been mad. 

To Koujaku, it didn’t matter what Aoba had done. Not that he wasn’t curious. Thinking back on it, there had been rumours of some devilish blue-haired Rib player rippling through the community back when Koujaku first formed Beni Shigure, but as he had never met the man in person, he had never put much stock in him. Now he knew: it had been Aoba. Koujaku could only imagine what Aoba had seen and done back then. But again, it didn’t matter – because no matter what Aoba had done, it couldn’t be worse than Koujaku’s own sins. 

And it if were – if Aoba was a murderer, killer, a kinslayer even, Koujaku would love him anyway. He couldn’t hope – and here Koujaku’s hands shook a little as he turned the taps to turn off the water – he couldn’t hope that Aoba might love him – if he wasn’t willing to accept Aoba’s own flaws. And once he’d realised it was inevitable, Koujaku had worked so hard to love Aoba properly. Trying to make himself a better person. Coming to terms with his sexuality. Almost coming out to Mizuki that one time. It wasn’t much to give, but Koujaku had tried so hard. Maybe he wasn’t ready to say anything yet – although Aoba had seemed receptive so far – but soon, it would be soon, Koujaku prayed it would be. Because he could barely keep his eyes and his hands off of Aoba. 

Koujaku half-wished he could talk to Beni about it, but he didn’t know how thin the walls of this apartment were. Maybe later he would take a walk around town to clear his head. For now, he had to finish making himself presentable and then they would go to the club. 

He still had so many questions. So many. But now most of them were related to Redbird, and… Koujaku definitely wasn’t ready to find out that Redbird wasn’t him. Who could he possibly be? Koujaku was more willing to believe that Redbird was just some construct Aoba made up based on a visual image of Beni than a real person. Unless it was Mizuki. Did Aoba know about Mizuki? Feeling a wave of jealousy rise, Koujaku told himself he was being stupid and put more attention into the task of tying his obi. 

Ten minutes later, Aoba and Koujaku reconvened in the living room, ready to go. Ren and Beni were both in sleep mode upstairs – if there was fighting, they might get hurt, so it was better to just leave them here. 

“Nice keychain,” Aoba said as Koujaku slung his sword-belt over his chest. Aoba’s tone was casual, but his lips were pulling up at the corners in secret amusement. 

Though he should have known better, Koujaku responded quickly, “Thanks, I got it from – uh, you,” then felt a flash of fear as he realised what he’d done. 

“You’re welcome,” Aoba said sweetly, and Koujaku knew he was being played with. Probably Aoba had guessed his Ensou username by now, and the keychain would’ve confirmed it if he hadn’t already. Unless Aoba gave out these Redbirds like candy.

But this was absolutely not the time to ask about it. Forcing himself to clear his mind and put all of his anxieties aside, Koujaku followed Aoba out the door and into the street of Platinum Jail. 

Going from the well-lit, bright-like-noon apartment to the twilight streets of Platinum Jail was a bit unsettling. Unlike the flame-red and indigo-hued streets Koujaku had walked along that morning, Glitter was far more peaceful and still, coloured in soothing white and grey instead of bright and neon. The empty road gleamed like a white glass river. 

“What do you think?” Aoba asked, gesturing at the nearly empty sidewalk. “Fancy, huh?”

“It’s fine,” said Koujaku, thinking that Platinum Jail was way too rich for his tastes. Luxury, he was fond of. But this city, if one could call it that, made him feel like he was suffocating in light.

Seeing the face Koujaku was pulling, Aoba laughed. “Me too,” he said. “If I have to get outside, I usually stay in Glitter or go to the hydroponic gardens. I used to think Glitter was awful, but compared to everywhere else, it’s way better. Plus, there’s a street full of restaurants that feels more real than all the bars and stuff everywhere else. That’s where the pizza came from. And the gardens are nice, I guess. I miss real trees, like I had when I was living with Clear.”

“How was that?” Koujaku said curiously, wishing that he’d paid more attention to Clear in the group chats. His vague impression so far was of someone who was a little too formal and a little too earnest. Other than that, he didn’t know much about him at all. 

“Clear’s a really nice guy,” Aoba said. “Sei really likes him, too.”

“He does?” said Koujaku, wondering how he had missed _that_. They reached the end of Aoba’s street and turned out of Glitter and into the indigo district. The change from the residential area to the area for guests was nearly instantaneous. Suddenly there were a million people walking around, every one of them looking like they were dressed for an evening out on the town. There a lot of pretty women who Koujaku in a past life would have considered chatting up. Koujaku didn’t even notice how little attention he was paying to them until he caught himself marvelling at the way the lights made Aoba’s hair look almost purple.

Aoba and Koujaku continued chatting about their internet friends as they walked. Aoba told Koujaku a little more about his time with Clear and how they had met in the first place. Although Koujaku was looking straight at Aoba and responding to everything he said, he secretly felt as if Aoba was a million miles away. There was a tender fragility to him, like if Koujaku reached out to him he would vanish from beneath Koujaku’s fingertips like a ghost. 

Maybe it hadn’t yet sunk in to Koujaku that Aoba, Bluejay, and Platinum Jail were all real. 

As they arrived at the Monocle, the moment vanished. Aoba led Koujaku around to a side alley between the Monocle and the neighbouring club, which contained two dumpsters and not much else. They went to the side door, where Aoba had to scan his Coil for entry. Once inside they found themselves in a grey-carpeted hallway with very uninspired looking doors leading off from it on either side, reminding Koujaku a little of the manager’s office upstairs. Opening one of the doors, Aoba ushered Koujaku into a room lined on one side with large lockers, with a mirror on the far wall, and several different midi keyboards just sitting around and waiting to be played. 

“Okay,” Aoba said, opening one of the lockers. “You should probably leave your sword here. I’ll show you how to get into the audience without going onstage in a sec. Just let me get my costume on.”

“You have a costume?” Koujaku said curiously, as Aoba pulled some bunches of blue fabric from inside the locker. 

“Yeah, the manager said we should play up the bird thing so I asked Sei to design me a costume,” Aoba said. “He, uh, ended up making the whole thing himself. Said it was fun, so whatever.”

Aoba’s tone was uneasy, and Koujaku guessed that he felt bad for having to ask Sei for help. It was weird to Koujaku how Sei had just made this thing for Aoba and he hadn’t even known that Sei was in the middle of a project. It was like everybody Koujaku knew had conspired against him to keep him from figuring out that Aoba was Bluejay. Even Mizuki had told him that Bluejay came from the mainland. 

“It’s weird that I didn’t notice Sei sewing a Bluejay costume,” Koujaku said, deciding to voice his thoughts aloud. Aoba laughed, swapping out his regular jacket for the blue one he was holding. 

“We missed each other a lot, I think,” Aoba said ruefully. “I didn’t even know you listened to my music. I thought you would hate it, actually.”

“I used to,” Koujaku admitted, and Aoba looked up curiously, holding some kind of wire and feather costume piece in his hands. 

“What changed your mind?” he said, fiddling with the wires a little. Koujaku thought about the night Mizuki had introduced him to Bluejay’s music and he’d somehow fallen in love with it. That had been a total anomaly, but looking back on it now, it felt somehow inevitable. 

“Redbird’s Vision,” Koujaku admitted. Aoba’s jaw dropped.

“But that’s –” he started, then shook his head as he finally slipped the feather thing over his shoulders. “Never mind. Remind me to tell you more about that one, sometime.” 

Aoba reached back into the locker, pulling out one final thing – a mask. “I’m glad, though,” he said quietly. Giving him an awkward smile, because he didn’t know what else to say, Koujaku watched as Aoba put the mask on. 

The completed Bluejay costume wasn’t anything fancy. It consisted of a blue hoodie with a blue jay’s distinctive black and white markings sewn into the sides, plus a pair of feathered wings, and a birdlike mask. The wings weren’t made in the stereotypical distorted almond shape, but radiated outwards from Aoba’s shoulders, more like a feathered collar. As for the mask, it only covered the top half of Aoba’s face, with a pointed black beak and the same stripes as the jacket. To balance out all of this blue, black, and white, Aoba was wearing a strip of red fabric as a bracelet around one wrist, and Sei had added some silver flecks to the mask and the wings.

“What, do I look dumb or something?” Aoba said, irritated that Koujaku was taking so long to say something. 

“No, I was just thinking,” Koujaku said quickly. He had been distracted by the red bracelet, which was probably there for Redbird… “Um… if you were wearing that yesterday, how do you know that Mink recognised you?”

Aoba grimaced. “Yeah, I’m sure he did. My hair’s blue, for starters. Then he looked me right in the eyes for a good thirty seconds and made this gesture like this –” Aoba pointed at himself, then at Koujaku “– and I fl- I flipped out and nearly knocked the keyboard over, so I’m pretty sure he knew it was me.” Aoba scowled in embarrassment, but Koujaku didn’t think any less of him for reacting that way.

“Okay,” Koujaku said. “Well, you should tell Sei he did a good job on the costume anyway. You look pretty cool.”

“Damn right,” Aoba said.

Aoba held the locker open, and Koujaku shoved his sword inside, feeling a little regretful at having to leave it there. Still, it would be hard to walk around the dance floor just wearing a sword. After that, Aoba led Koujaku out of the room and showed him to a door that supposedly led onto the dance floor. 

“My set starts in five minutes,” Aoba said. “We’ll be here for four hours. I’m not performing tonight, just DJ’ing, so there’s no set-up or clean-up. The girl who plays before me today uses the same keyboard as me, so we don’t even have to worry about that. You don’t have to pay attention the whole time, just make sure you keep an eye out for Mink and then get your ass backstage when I go off set. Okay?”

“Got it,” Koujaku said confidently. Aoba gave him a thumbs-up and disappeared back down the hallway. Upon opening the door, Koujaku found himself next to the stage with the dance floor in front of him. Since he was here on a mission he quickly surveyed the room. From where he was standing, he could see about a quarter of the dance floor with enough detail to know that Mink wasn’t there. Beyond that, it was too dark and too crowded to distinctly identify anyone. Although he would have liked to find a good vantage point to survey the entire crowd at once, Koujaku knew he would have to move around the room to get a better idea of the likelihood of Mink being there. 

Making his way onto the dance floor, Koujaku wondered how much he should dance and pretend to socialise to keep people from thinking he was creepy and telling him to go away. He had four hours to kill, and he didn’t want to waste any energy dancing excessively when he might have to fight later. It was hard to squeeze his way through the throng of dancing bodies, but Koujaku managed to cut a diagonal path to the back of the room, constantly alert and looking from side to side the entire time. One huge advantage Koujaku had was his height, since he had about five inches on the average guy. The other huge advantage was Mink’s height. Mink was a veritable giant, at least three inches taller than Koujaku. Between those two factors – Koujaku’s enhanced ability to see over the crowd, and the fact that Mink couldn’t hide in a crowd even if he wanted to – Koujaku was confident he could spot Mink if he was there. 

So far, no go. 

Koujaku was about to try and go through the crowd on the other diagonal when the lights on the stage, which had gone off when the previous DJ ended his set, suddenly turned on again. Automatically turning to face the stage, Koujaku found himself holding his breath as Bluejay appeared. 

From up close, Aoba’s costume had been pretty cool looking, but nothing extraordinary. Under the single spotlight that was following him across the stage to the keyboard, the bits of silver in his feathered wings sparkled dazzlingly, and the mask transformed his face into something alien and mesmerizing. His thick blue hair cascaded down his back, unbound. He seemed perfectly at harmony with his environment, like he was born and raised in the bright white light of the stage. He was Bluejay – not Koujaku’s unrequited love dressed up in a bird costume, but a mysterious being who existed to make music. It was hard to explain, but Koujaku couldn’t look away. 

Aoba sat down at the keyboard and the spotlight stopped, framing him in a circular silhouette at the side of the stage. 

“Good evening, everyone. Hope you’re all having a good time. I’m DJ Sly Blue, and let’s get this party started!” Aoba said into the microphone. Koujaku thought he saw Aoba plug something into the keyboard, a USB perhaps, and then he started playing. Koujaku didn’t have the faintest idea how this DJ thing worked, but Aoba was totally in his element, pressing what appeared to be random buttons and somehow producing an upbeat remix of… not one of Aoba’s own songs, but a pop song Koujaku had heard on the radio which was popular right now. That must be the difference between DJ’ing and performing. Koujaku watched Aoba for a good ten minutes before realising that he should complete his scan of the audience before any more people came in from outside. As Aoba continued playing, Koujaku made his way back and forth through the crowd a few more times until he had satisfactorily determined that Mink was not there at all.

Well, there would be time enough for him to show up at the end of Aoba’s set. Koujaku stationed himself near the back of the room, watching the partygoers trickle in from outside. Though he wasn’t really looking at most of them, Koujaku couldn’t help but notice how different this crowd was from the one that roamed Midorijima’s south district at night. These people were all fabulously wealthy, wearing nothing but designer brands and what looked like real gold and jewels glimmering around their throats and wrists. Some of the women were quite beautiful, in an oily, rich kind of way. As time ticked on, Koujaku caught himself looking more and more often at the stage, and had to force himself to keep watch for Mink a little more seriously. Several times he lost track of time for so long that he had to sweep back and forth through the room again just to make sure he hadn’t missed Mink coming in. 

Although Aoba wasn’t playing any of his own music, there was still something mesmerising about watching him play. The fact that Koujaku didn’t know how he was doing it made it even more fascinating. What quality did Aoba get on stage that made him so interesting to watch? Was it the confidence with which he moved, the sure and steady nod of his head to the tempo, always perfectly on-beat? Was it the enticing otherworldliness he had acquired by putting on the mask? Or was it that he was still so perfectly Aoba, and that it was all too easy to take advantage of this opportunity to watch him without being watched in return? Yet though Aoba couldn’t see him, Koujaku felt somehow close to him, like this was another side of Aoba that he was allowing Koujaku to see. Even if other people had seen it too, Koujaku still felt like Aoba was letting him in. 

Staring up at the stage, Koujaku started to feel a sick feeling welling up in his chest, something akin to panic. He loved Aoba so much, he didn’t think he could hide it for much longer. Sooner rather than later, the truth would come out. If Aoba rejected him, which was a very real possibility, Koujaku didn’t know how he would be able to bear it. He knew he had no real claim to Aoba, but he had been wanting and hoping and dreaming for so very long that he had almost convinced himself what he dreamed of could become real. Not that Koujaku deserved it.

 _Oh god_ , Koujaku thought to himself. If Aoba didn’t love him, he could only pray he would have the strength to bear it, the strength to protect and do right by Aoba no matter what.

Of course he would protect Aoba no matter what.

Koujaku realised he had been spacing out again, and tried to concentrate on the crowd in front of him. Dully, he realised a large group of people had just come in, and he would have to pace the room again. Near the front of the stage, a couple who had been there for two hours now looked at Koujaku in disdain. It was too loud to hear what the woman said to the man, but Koujaku guessed it was something like ‘Look at that weirdo who keeps walking around without having any fun.’

Giving the two of them a politely pained smile, Koujaku took up his post at the back of the room again, feeling a lead weight in the hollow of his chest. He checked the time on his Coil – about forty minutes left before Aoba’s set was over, and still no sign of Mink. Koujaku knew he should pay close attention just in case Mink showed up in the last twenty minutes or so, but this waiting was interminable. Without thinking about it too much, he pulled up a chat window on his Coil.

 **Kansuzume:** Mizuki

Clenching his fists, Koujaku watched the entrance to the dance floor with eagle eyes until he felt his Coil vibrate as Mizuki replied.

 **mizu_hi:** wtf u never just say my name like that is sthg wrong  
**Kansuzume:** I have to tell you something

 _What am I doing?_ Koujaku wondered to himself.

 **mizu_hi:** ok  
**mizu_hi:** wait first  
**mizu_hi:** r u drunk bc if u r maybe u better wait this convo out til tomorrow  
**Kansuzume:** I’m not drunk, I need your help  
**mizu_hi:** ok big guy  
**mizu_hi:** tell me

Koujaku took a deep breath. It was easy to just let his fingers do the typing while he kept his eyes on the door. Easy to let himself finally make the admission to someone.

 **Kansuzume:** I think I love Aoba

It took Mizuki a full five minutes to reply.

 **mizu_hi:** yeah hes ur bro right  
**Kansuzume:** Not like that  
**mizu_hi:** what  
**Kansuzume:** I’m in love with him  
**mizu_hi:** i didnt kno u were bi

Koujaku didn’t know what he was, but it didn’t matter. Also, typing out his confession and having Mizuki understand had been easier than he thought. But he still didn’t feel any better. Telling Mizuki had just made the situation feel more immediate and real, instead of inside his head. 

**mizu_hi:** im sorry  
**mizu_hi:** at least we know aoba is gay too  
**mizu_hi:** do u think he feels the same way about u

Swallowing, Koujaku fixed his eyes on the coquettish women and equally dressed-up men coming onto the dance floor. His jaw clenched involuntarily, and he had to work very hard to hold his hands steady as he replied.

 **Kansuzume:** I don’t know  
**Kansuzume:** Maybe  
**Kansuzume:** He seems happy that I’m here  
**mizu_hi:** thats good  
**mizu_hi:** guess u just gotta put urself out there n ask  
**mizu_hi:** dont miss the opportunity  
**Kansuzume:** I can’t  
**mizu_hi:** why not

To Koujaku, his levels of pathetic inadequacy were obvious, but he knew that he hid them too well for Mizuki to be able to take them into account. But he also knew that Aoba deserved better than him. That was a conversation only he and Aoba could have, and Koujaku didn’t even know how to start it. 

**Kansuzume:** I don’t know  
**Kansuzume:** I’m not good enough for him  
**mizu_hi:** wat r u saying  
**mizu_hi:** if he likes u then ur good enough by default  
**Kansuzume:** What if I’m not?  
**mizu_hi:** then hell turn u down  
**mizu_hi:** or hell break up w u n u go cry n no harm done to aoba  
**mizu_hi:** so just ask him

The way Mizuki made it sound… it could be so simple. Koujaku wanted to believe in what he was saying. He still had so many reservations, but maybe he could just – think about this. Yeah.

 **Kansuzume:** Okay  
**Kansuzume:** I hope you’re right  
**mizu_hi:** good man  
**mizu_hi:** i want all the details when u confess  
**Kansuzume:** I’ll think about it

Koujaku was about to add that he still didn’t even know if he was going to confess, when Aoba’s voice cut through the crowd. 

“Hey, everybody. Thanks for coming here tonight and I hope you all had a good time. My set’s about to be over, but first I wanted to play a special song for all of you. It’s one I wrote myself, and it’s dedicated to someone in the audience tonight,” Aoba said. Koujaku turned his attention to the stage as the dancers around him murmured in surprise. It was hard to tell with the mask covering his face, but Aoba seemed to be a little nervous. 

“This is another song about Prince Redbird,” Aoba finished quickly. A wave of anticipation rose in Koujaku’s throat. Koujaku really, really wanted to deny it, but Aoba was making it sound like this song was for _him_. As Aoba played the opening chords, Koujaku tried to place the song, but he had never heard it before – which meant it wasn’t on Ensou. Aoba was playing a song nobody on the internet had ever heard before. 

[ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EapxGkiaK60)

The song began with what sounded like a shamisen, accompanied by some really cool electric guitars, then a koto. How Aoba managed to produce these sounds from a plastic keyboard was beyond Koujaku, but there was an amazing sense of tension, as if something really cool were about to happen. Koujaku wondered if Aoba had put in the koto and shamisen because he knew that Koujaku liked them, or just because they sounded cool. When the koto kicked in the tension broke like a wave, rolling into an intense and badass sounding theme. This song was for him, if only for tonight. And god, Koujaku wanted to hold on to this moment. Koujaku couldn’t explain it, but listening to this song made him feel like he could win any fight. Caught up in the moment, Koujaku allowed himself to get lost in the feeling. 

As the song died down and faded away, Koujaku realised that it was Aoba’s last song and he’d wasted it just enjoying it like he wasn’t there for any other reason. He gave the crowd a cursory scan, ignoring Aoba’s closing remarks. Since he had to get backstage anyway, he went straight down the middle of the dance floor, scanning frantically from side to side, but no tall, imposing silhouette appeared amidst the crowd. It took him a little more effort, but he reached the door he had come from just as Aoba exited the stage. No Mink, or so it seemed. Koujaku didn’t have complete faith in his observations, but Aoba would be waiting for him, so he hurried backstage.

Back in the room with the locker where Koujaku had stored his sword, Aoba was untying the black ribbon on the back of his mask. The first thing Koujaku saw as he entered the room was Aoba’s cascading blue hair, which was – something he definitely didn’t need to be thinking about right now. Shaking himself out of his music-induced daze, Koujaku felt a little bitter, but he didn’t say anything about it. 

“That was pretty awesome,” Koujaku said. After opening the locker and shoving the mask inside, Aoba turned towards him casually.

“I do this every night,” he said, shrugging. Koujaku got the sense that he might be a little embarrassed. “Did you see Mink?” Aoba asked, taking off the Bluejay wings. 

“No,” Koujaku said, doing his best not to look guilty. “I looked around the dance floor a lot, but I didn’t see him at all.” 

Like he hadn’t totally spaced out for the last 10 minutes there.

“Yeah, me neither,” Aoba said. “I think I saw a guy from Scratch, but I could be wrong.” He handed Koujaku his sword, trading its place in the locker for the rest of the Bluejay costume. “Let’s assume that he’s not here and go to the ramen place.” 

“Sure,” Koujaku said, though he felt a little emotionally shaken. But what he needed was to buy more time to think, so a trip to the ramen-ya would probably do him good. Aoba closed the locker, locked it, and the two of them left the room together. 

“If he is here, he might be…” Koujaku said, gesturing vaguely at the exit they were walking towards. 

“Yeah,” Aoba agreed, glancing at Koujaku. He put his hand on his sword to reassure the both of them. Aoba nodded, and the two of them resolutely walked out the back door. 

The lights of Platinum Jail were bright as they stepped into the cool omni-twilight air. Still on their guard, Aoba and Koujaku walked straight down the alley and back out onto the main road. After standing there for a moment and looking stupidly in both directions as if Mink might suddenly appear out of thin air, Aoba nodded, and both of them sighed in relief, the tension draining away. 

“Well,” Aoba said, sounding much happier now. “Guess he didn’t come tonight after all. Let’s go.”

As they made their way through the streets, Koujaku said thoughtfully, “Why do you think he didn’t come?”

He expected Aoba to make a few guesses, but Aoba sounded totally sure when he replied. “My schedule,” he said. “Yesterday I started at eight, but not today. So I bet you anything he’ll be there later tonight.”

“Isn’t your schedule posted somewhere?” Koujaku asked. 

“Oh, sure,” Aoba said, ushering Koujaku across the street so they could turn left. “All he’d have to do is ask at the bar or something. He’ll probably be there tomorrow, especially if the guy I saw really was from Scratch. But,” Aoba said, turning slightly to give Koujaku a grin, “I don’t really care about that right now.”

“Me neither,” Koujaku said, glad to know that neither of them wanted to think about Mink for any length of time. Mink’s failure to appear had mitigated his anger somewhat, though he knew it would return tomorrow. But frankly, he didn’t have the emotional energy to devote to anger right now, no matter how involuntary it usually was. Ramen. Ramen sounded good. 

“You know, I’m glad you liked the show,” Aoba said. For a moment, Koujaku feared he would mention that last song he had played, but instead he continued, “I was thinking about inviting Clear to watch me play sometime, and I guess now that you know who I am, Mizuki can come too. What do you think?”

“What about Sei?” Koujaku suggested. Seeing Aoba wince uncomfortably, he added, “Or – or your other friend, Ruff Rabbit or whatever his name is.”

They turned another corner, and entered a street full of restaurants and shops. It appeared to be part of the indigo district, but the colours were slightly more muted. If Koujaku was recalling correctly, the indigo district intersected with Glitter, so maybe this place was used more by the residents of Glitter than the guests of the indigo district. For a moment, Aoba’s profile was silhouetted in deep purple light.

“Noiz? He lives in Germany, I think,” Aoba said, breaking the unreality of the moment. “I’ll think about it, though.”

Before Koujaku could say that maybe it was for the best since Ruff Rabbit (Noiz?) seemed to like arguing with Aoba more than listening to his music, Aoba stopped in front of a cheerfully busy, warm-looking restaurant. Koujaku glanced up at the sign over the door and saw that they had indeed arrived at the ramen-ya. 

“We’re here,” Aoba announced, pushing open the door. Together, he and Koujaku went inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Koujaku (anime soundtrack)  
> Chapter title comes from [Ai Catch by Goatbed. (The game's theme song) ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gZC76aQqxuc)
> 
> What is this chapter? I don't have a fucking clue. I feel like it's probably like 80% shit. I've been writing Koujaku so much, I forgot how to write Aoba. =.=
> 
> Ramen-ya = ramen store. In Japan, in the ramen-ya you sometimes have to order from an electronic menu at the door. You put in your order, then your money, and then you wait for it to come out of the kitchen like clockwork. It's pretty cool. Gog, I miss real ramen. 
> 
> This is probably a totally unreasonable way for a club to keep its keyboards around, but Platinum Jail is made of money so let’s pretend it makes sense. Also, poor Koujaku is so confused about how midi keyboards work… if only he knew the first thing about music before this whole Bluejay thing happened... I know some of you were concerned about getting to see Aoba play at the club, so I hope this is satisfactory, in spite of Koujaku's narration XD
> 
> Rejected lines from this chapter:  
> “What do you think? Fancy, huh?” said Aoba, gesturing to the streets of Platinum Jail.  
> “It’s beautiful,” Koujaku said, unironically looking straight at Aoba.
> 
> I’ve been working on this fic so much [I dreamed I was Aoba](http://voxiferous.tumblr.com/post/152472134212/i-dreamed-i-was-aoba-and-in-love-with-koujaku-but).
> 
> Working on this fic has given me so many other DMMd fic ideas. If only I could write them all.
> 
> Questions and comments always welcome, even if they are about ramen ;)


	26. True Route

After dinner, Aoba and Koujaku returned to Aoba’s apartment in Glitter. Koujaku had been looking a little stressed out at the beginning of the meal, but now Aoba could sense that both of them were feeling pretty relaxed. Aoba was just dying of curiosity about what Koujaku had thought of the song he had written for him, but he was afraid to bring it up, so they’d spent the meal talking about life in Platinum Jail and the news from Beni Shigure instead. Aoba was highly amused to learn the members of Beni Shigure had decided to hold a mini-tournament in which Kou and Hagima sparred six times and won three times each. Koujaku said they would have kept fighting forever if he hadn’t stepped in to give other people a turn. 

Upon returning to Glitter, Koujaku convinced Aoba to let him help put the apartment back in order again. When they got bored, Aoba showed Koujaku how he made music in Cubase, and then they got distracted by silly videos on the internet. Normal friend stuff. 

That night as Aoba lay in bed, he reflected on the day’s events and found himself feeling warm. Mink hadn’t come to the Monocle… playing the song he'd named "Koujaku" live for the first time had gone really well. And Koujaku hadn’t… Koujaku hadn’t… Koujaku wasn’t mad about high school. Also, if it wasn’t Aoba’s imagination, Koujaku was acting more than just happy to see him. Maybe things were looking up.

Just as Aoba was about to drift off into a contented sleep, there was a knock at his door.

“Uhh… yeah?” Aoba said groggily, sitting up and squinting into the light as Koujaku opened the door. 

“Oh,” Koujaku said, seeing Aoba’s scrunched-up expression and taking a step back. “Sorry, couldn’t sleep. I thought – well, I’ll go now.”

Curiosity piqued, Aoba flapped an arm at him to stay. “’Swrong?” he said, rubbing his eyes and getting out of bed. He stepped out into the hallway, prompting Koujaku to look all flustered and awkward. 

“N-nothing,” Koujaku stuttered. “There was just something I wanted to ask you about, that’s all.”

 _A-ha_ , Aoba thought to himself, thinking that Koujaku was going to ask about Redbird. He hadn’t even been able to reign himself in for a day. Feeling a little nervous but hopeful, Aoba smiled to put Koujaku at ease. 

“Yeah, sure, let’s go downstairs,” Aoba said. Without waiting for Koujaku to reply, he went into the living room and flopped down across one sofa. Reluctantly following, Koujaku sat down on the sofa across from Aoba and hunched over his knees, steepling his palms together in front of his face. 

“What is it?” Aoba prompted when Koujaku just sat there. 

Koujaku sighed. 

“Okay, let me get this straight. Pip is Ren and Cockatiel is Mink,” Koujaku said, looking more and more fidgety.

“Yes,” said Aoba. Okay, it was definitely coming. Koujaku was about to ask about Redbird. Aoba tried to steel himself to answer the question as honestly as possible. There was no way to tell how Koujaku would react when Aoba admitted that he’d been writing sappy, romantic songs about him and putting them on the internet for months now, but Aoba prayed that he would take it well. Even if Koujaku couldn’t return his feelings… maybe he would still be flattered?

“So…” Koujaku said, and then stopped. There was a silence, long and drawn out, in which Aoba could just feel Koujaku fumbling for words and and oh god, he was about to chicken out, wasn’t he? Shit – 

“You’re Redbird,” Aoba blurted out, at the same time that Koujaku finally said, “So who’s Redbird?”

Koujaku looked completely stunned, outright staring at Aoba as if he couldn’t believe it. “Me?” he said, and Aoba was a little shocked himself that Koujaku was having such trouble believing it. Hadn’t Kansuzume said that he identified a lot with Redbird? Shouldn’t this make sense to him? Or maybe he was rejecting it because of how Redbird felt for Bluejay… 

“ _Me?_ ” Koujaku repeated again, more calmly, but with a strange, childlike confusion. “But Redbird is – but I’m – Aoba?”

Aoba’s stomach dropped. So it was going to be a rejection, then. _Ah, shit_ , Aoba thought bitterly. As if steeling himself, Koujkau took a deep breath in through his nose. _Here it comes_ , Aoba thought. 

“Aoba, how did you know that Redbird… that I… that he feels that way about Bluejay…”

To Aoba’s amazement, Koujaku was flushing red as he tried to get a full sentence out, one hand fiddling agitatedly with his bangs. Aoba just stared, trying to understand. _Could it be_ …? Was Koujaku saying – that Aoba’s estimation of Redbird’s feelings had been right? _How?_

“I don’t know anything about Redbird’s feelings,” Aoba said honestly, swallowing hard. “I was just, you know. Projecting my own feelings onto Redbird. The Redbird’s Vision song, that was really about me. So. That’s all I can say.”

There was dead silence in the room, as Koujaku and Aoba locked wide, rounded eyes. Slowly, Koujaku nodded. When Aoba finally let out a breath, it was deep and long, rushing loudly in his ears. Koujaku, too, exhaled, his face still pink. Aoba was glad there was a table between them, because the temptation to just kiss the stuffing out of him was nearly overwhelming in that moment. 

“Aoba,” Koujaku started, frowning a little, and Aoba nodded, trying to get himself under control. “There are a lot of things about me that you don’t know,” Koujaku said. “If you – if you have those kinds of feelings about me, you have the right to know those things.” Even in a halting voice, Koujaku spoke clearly and resolutely. His gaze locked with Aoba’s until the very last word, when he looked down at the table in shame. What could he possibly be talking about? It wasn’t that Aoba particularly cared what Koujaku had done, since he himself had gone around being the village whore and breaking peoples’ brains with Scrap for about two years, which Koujaku knew. But Koujaku looked like he was in pain, and Aoba didn’t like it.

“Tell me,” Aoba said, standing and coming to sit beside Koujaku, who brought up one hand to fiddle in his bangs again. This close, Aoba could see the nervous tension in Koujaku’s jaw. “I’ll reserve judgement until after you tell me. But don’t count on me hating you.”

This prompted a very small, very fake smile from Koujaku. Then it awkwardly dropped from his face as Koujaku sighed miserably. “Aoba… I don’t know if I can tell you everything at once,” he said. “I – I don’t want to burden you with my problems.”

Rolling his eyes, Aoba said, “Koujaku, did I say ‘don’t bother me with your problems?’ No, I said ‘tell me,’ which means I want to hear it.” Although Aoba was trying to play it off like he was just teasing, inside he started mentally preparing himself for Koujaku to say something like ‘I’m an alcoholic’ or ‘I’m suicidal’. What would Aoba do if something like that was true? Well, he didn’t know yet, but one thing he did know: Aoba himself was no shining example of mental health and stability. Other people had been taking care of him for months now, and it would be only right for him to repay the favour to someone he truly cared about, which Koujaku certainly was. Maybe it would be hard, but Aoba wouldn’t give up on him no matter what. 

It seemed that Aoba’s brash statement had unsettled Koujaku a little, so Aoba added, “Look, you don’t have to tell me more than you want to, but don’t think you have to stay silent just because it might bother me.”

Nodding, Koujaku said, “Thanks, Aoba.” His voice was low, and he didn’t meet Aoba’s eyes. “Do you want to do this tomorrow?”

Yeah right, as if Aoba would ever be able to sleep after a bombshell like this. He shook his head, and Koujaku nodded, face grave. Lifting one hand to his face, Koujaku put it underneath his bangs. 

“I’ll show you, then,” Koujaku said. Turning towards Aoba, he lifted his hair – and Aoba felt a little thrill of panic shoot through him as he did. Aoba hadn’t seen Koujaku’s right eye in years, and he hadn’t realised it until now, but oh god, why had Koujaku been hiding – 

Two perfectly whole, ruby-red eyes met Aoba’s gaze. The left one was the same as ever, gentle but strong just like the rest of Koujaku, and the right one – the right one was framed by swirling lines of thick black ink. A tattoo. 

“What is that?” Aoba said stupidly, and Koujaku flinched, looking away, though he didn’t lower his hand. 

“My family on the mainland is in the yakuza,” Koujaku said. “This tattoo, it – it’s bigger.” 

Letting go of his hair, Koujaku held his right out arm beside him and used the left one to gesture at its length, then all down his right side. Aoba nodded, having caught glimpses of Koujaku’s tattoo under his loose-fitting kimono before. In the past, Aoba had assumed Koujaku just had a bruise or two, but now he knew better. 

“I’ve seen it, I think,” Aoba said, and Koujaku grimaced, raking his hand through his bangs until they sat properly again. Knowing that Koujaku hated the yakuza, including non-offensive ones like Virus and Trip, Aoba wasn’t at all surprised. If Koujaku hated the yakuza, and his family was yakuza… Koujaku must hate his family, which explained a lot about him, really. Like for instance, the fact that Aoba had never once heard him talk about his father. No wonder this was so painful for Koujaku – Aoba wasn’t exactly estranged from his family, but he kinda knew the feeling. 

“So they made you get a tattoo?” Aoba said, just to clarify.

“You could say that,” Koujaku said, and scowled. Aoba started in alarm, because hidden in that scowl was something terrifying – a fire, a raging one. So it was that bad, huh? Aoba knew that Koujaku could be a hothead in some situations, but this – this ran deep. Just what had happened on the mainland? 

“Don’t worry,” Aoba said hastily, and Koujaku looked up. “I don’t care if your family is yakuza, and I won’t think of you as one either. Okay?” 

“You…” Koujaku started, looking miserable, which was not the reaction Aoba had been hoping to provoke. “Aoba… there’s more.”

“More?” Aoba echoed, wondering what more there could possibly be to this story, apart from Koujaku maybe having an outstanding criminal record somewhere. Again, nothing worse than what Aoba had done in high school. Still, Aoba knew the kind of guilt that doing bad things against your will could put on your shoulders. 

“Yeah, more,” Koujaku said, looking like he was steeling himself. He licked his lips nervously, closed his eyes as if in pain. There was silence for a few moments. 

“My mother is dead,” Koujaku said, eyes still closed. 

Aoba hummed quietly in acknowledgement. 

Voice a broken whisper, Koujaku said, “I killed her.”

Aoba didn’t react instantly. Instead, he stood frozen, completely stunned by what Koujaku had said. A million different scenarios raced through his head. The first question was: was Koujaku dangerous? Seeing him sit there, fists clenched and eyes scrunched tightly shut in pain, Aoba couldn’t bring himself to believe that. No, something else must have happened, some terrible accident Koujaku was blaming himself for. That _had_ to be it.

So Aoba asked, “How?”

“The tattoos,” Koujaku said, opening his eyes, an expression of anger etched into his face. From set of Koujaku’s scowl, Aoba could tell that this was the deep-rooted anger he’d been catching fleeting glimpses of for the past two days. This was its source. But Aoba didn’t understand. How could tattoos make Koujaku kill someone, much less his own mother?

“I don’t –” Aoba started, and Koujaku abruptly stood, restlessly pacing the length of the living room floor.

“The tattoos, they’re not natural, Aoba, they’re magical. I got them from a guy named Ryuuhou, on the orders of my – my father,” Koujaku spat. He stopped, back turned to Aoba as he continued to speak. “That bastard put something in them that makes them turn me into a berserker if I get too angry about something. Not just angry, y’know, _furious_. And my mother – my mother –” 

Here Koujaku’s voice broke, the anger fading as quickly as it had come. Now his voice turned pained again, and it broke Aoba’s heart to hear it. “They made me angry, to see what would happen, I think. I don’t know. The tattoo wasn’t finished. Maybe it was an accident. I don’t remember anything. Just waking up after and there was a lot of blood, and _god_ –” 

That was too much for Aoba. As Koujaku’s voice broke again, distorted and desperate, he slowly approached Koujaku from behind, reached out, and put a gentle hand upon his shoulder.

“Don’t,” Koujaku said, anguished. “I don’t – I’m not –”

Koujaku stuttered, words failing him. Even though he was protesting, he didn’t push Aoba away as Aoba stood before him. So Aoba cautiously put his arms around Koujaku and held him. Koujaku pressed his face into Aoba’s shoulder, and a few moments later Aoba felt wet drops begin to spill onto his shirt. Koujaku was crying. 

Aoba grimaced. In his whole life, he had never imagined he’d ever find himself in this position – with the person he admired the most crying silently into the front of his shirt. His whole heart rebelled, but he didn’t know how to fix this. What he did know was that he would do just about anything.

Beginning to stroke Koujaku’s hair with one hand, Aoba nervously licked his lips. He opened his mouth, and the voice that came out wasn’t quite Scrap – but it certainly would have charmed the pants off of anyone talking to him over the phone. 

“Koujaku, it’s okay. You don’t have to cry,” Aoba said, honey-soft. 

“Aoba, don’t,” Koujaku groaned, evidently having understood what Aoba was doing. “I don’t deserve this,” he said, voice still torn. 

“Yes you do,” Aoba replied calmly, then dropped back into his regular voice, still stroking Koujaku’s hair. “You know, I thought I was going to have to leave Platinum Jail just because Mink was here. I thought everything I did to get here was worthless and I was pathetic for not being able to fight for it. Then you showed up. I fucking –” Here Aoba had to stop and take a deep breath before continuing – “When I heard your voice in the hallway I thought it was some kind of trick, you know that? Even when I realised it was really you I was ashamed to come out because I didn’t want you to see me like that. But you – you – I don’t know, you saved my ass, okay? And it’s always been like that, so don’t try to pretend this is a one time thing.”

Koujaku’s tears had slowed, if the unchanging circumference of the damp patch on Aoba’s shoulder was any indication. Now he brought his hands up to Aoba’s back and just held him as Aoba continued talking. “When we were kids you saved me from getting beat up. When you came back to Midorijima I was a mess, but I think seeing you was part of what made me try harder to get better. When I came to Platinum Jail…” Aoba sighed. “I told myself I wasn’t allowed to come home until I made enough money to live on my own. I told myself I would get my own apartment, then visit Granny and Sei and apologise to them. And then I would go see you and tell you –”

Koujaku’s hands tightened on Aoba’s back in anticipation of his words. 

“I was going to tell you everything. You know…” Aoba said, feeling like he was shying away from saying what he was really supposed to say. Maybe he was a coward, but this was so hard to say. “I wanted to tell you that you’re Redbird. I don’t care what you did in the past. I don’t care if you have evil tattoos. You’ve always been my he- my hero.” Aoba swallowed.

“Really?” Koujaku said into Aoba’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Aoba admitted, though he was embarrassed. “Yeah, you are.”

“I think you’re mine,” Koujaku said, letting out a little awkward huff of a laugh. Pulling away, he looked at Aoba with eyes red and still glimmering with tears. 

“I’m sorry about your mom,” Aoba said as Koujaku dried his eyes on his sleeve. Koujaku nodded shortly. 

“I don’t think about it very much,” Koujaku said tightly, and Aoba’s heart gave a twinge. He was starting to wonder how he could have missed the fact that Koujaku was carrying this huge burden for so long. It was good that he had set some of it down now, but he would definitely need Aoba to be there for him in the future. 

Aoba could do that. He _wanted_ to do that.

“Thanks, Aoba,” Koujaku said. The two of them looked at each other expectantly, but Koujaku’s thoughts in that moment were impenetrable to him, and he didn’t know what else to say. A tense moment passed, where Aoba felt like something was about to happen, but nothing did. 

“Hey, let’s go to bed,” Aoba said finally, getting to his feet. “It’s really late.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Koujaku said, sounding somewhat relieved. He followed Aoba up the staircase and into the cream-coloured hallway, steps heavy with tiredness. Aoba was on the verge of opening his bedroom door when Koujaku spoke.

“Wait,” Koujaku said, and Aoba paused. Koujaku was looking at him nervously, expectantly, hovering a little. Feeling a little thrill of anticipation, Aoba waited as Koujaku swallowed and hesitantly said, “So – so how do you feel about me being Redbird now. Is it still – do you still – are you –”

“The song I played at the club tonight, the one I said was about Redbird,” Aoba started abruptly, feeling the heat rise to his face. “It’s not really. It’s actually named after you. That’s why I didn’t announce it properly. I worked all summer on it, too.”

Koujaku turned red, looking spectacularly flustered. “I think – I think I love you, Aoba,” he said. 

Some part of Aoba dizzily noticed that his and Koujaku’s faces were getting awfully close together. 

“Me too,” Aoba breathed, tilting his face upwards. Koujaku’s beautiful red eyes were staring back into Aoba’s, but it was his lips that were mesmerising. Aoba felt the warmth of Koujaku’s hand plant itself on his waist, then the other close gently against his back, and then Koujaku kissed him. Softly, chastely, like any first kiss. But then they were kissing each other again and again, sending a soft electric thrill down Aoba’s spine. He was suddenly overcome with the desire to put his hands all over Koujaku’s body, and the intensity of the feeling overwhelmed him.

 _I want him_. 

The thought came to Aoba all in a rush, and he drew back, unsure of what to do. 

“Is this okay?” Koujaku said, cupping Aoba’s chin in his hands. Koujaku was already giving him the bedroom eyes, and god, they were beautiful. Aoba hadn’t felt this way about anyone in a long, long time, if ever. Still, Aoba didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t help but feel that now wasn’t the time to go any farther. 

“It’s fine,” Aoba said, and Koujaku waited patiently as he struggled to speak. “Just – let’s not do anything else right now, okay?”

“Of course,” Koujaku said, letting tilting his head to one side in a question Aoba didn’t know how to answer. Instead, he pressed another very fast but very firm kiss to Koujaku’s lips. 

“Good night,” Aoba said, flushing. As Koujaku stared in amazement, Aoba rushed back into his room and closed the door behind him, totally embarrassed at his own behaviour. 

Outside in the hallway, Koujaku raised his hand to his lips. Slowly, he smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I was actually working on four chapters at once over the past 2 (?) weeks. Unfortunately, the next chapter in line hasn't even been started, but I've got an outline or something. (This whole fic has been written working off of a constantly shifting outline.) I just realised that this is the 2nd longest fic in the KouAo tag on AO3! I'm pretty proud of myself for that one, although I don't think I'm going to pass the longest fic. That's okay, though. My goal isn't word count. It's quality and completion. (Most likely we'll get only one and not the other... oh dear.)
> 
> Now that was a wild ride from start to finish, wasn't it? I'm super tired. Hope there are no typos. 
> 
> My notes for this scene: “Aoba, there’s something you should know about me. Specifically, look at these tattoos.”
> 
> Questions and comments always welcome!


	27. Dating Start

The next morning, Aoba woke up late (again) and lay in bed wondering whether to post “Koujaku” to his Ensou account. Since it had been performed and Koujaku knew about it, there was no reason not to except that Aoba didn’t have a name for it. After internally debating for about ten minutes, Aoba gave up and woke up Ren instead. 

“Good morning, Aoba,” Ren said. Cocking his head to one side, he scrutinized Aoba intently, then let out a little huff of amusement. “It’s good to see you happy,” Ren said solemnly. Struck by how ridiculously cute Ren was (a frequent occurrence for Aoba), he scooped Ren up into his arms and lay back down so that Ren was sitting on his chest. 

“Last night something happened,” Aoba started. He was a little uncomfortable, knowing there was no way to say this that wouldn’t come out as totally corny. But it was just Ren, so it was okay. 

“A good thing?” Ren said evenly. 

“Yeah,” said Aoba. Snatching up the pillow beside him, hiding his face in it and muffling his words as he explained. “Koujaku and I talked about some things…”

Ren waited patiently for Aoba to continue. 

“I kissed him,” Aoba finally admitted, and felt Ren start in surprise. “I’m like 95% sure that we’re dating now. He said he loves me, the big sap.”

That was one thing Aoba had never heard, nor expected to hear, from Mink, but Koujaku had said it like it was the truest thing in the world. Although Aoba had been more focused on Koujaku’s proximity and the potential of kissing him at the moment Koujaku had confessed, the words had registered. Now he smiled, remembering – though his smile was hidden by the pillow. 

“I’m so happy for you,” Ren said, and Aoba felt the soft fluff of Ren’s tail wagging against his chest. 

“H-hey!” Aoba laughed, tossing the pillow aside and picking up Ren instead. “Don’t do that! It tickles!”

Ren’s fluffy tail continued to wag against Aoba’s arm, and his little tongue was sticking out in contentment like it did sometimes. “I see little to no probability of you becoming injured or distressed because my tail tickles you,” Ren said, and Aoba could have sworn he was being teased. “Due to the fact that I am a dog, I am unable to smile, so you will just have to accept this as proof of my happiness on your behalf.”

Smiling, Aoba rolled his eyes and set Ren down on his chest again, this time on top of the sheet. He had the feeling that nothing would put him in a bad mood today. Well, there was one thing that was bothering him.

“I’m worried about Koujaku, though,” Aoba sighed. “Something really bad happened to him. Did you know he has a tattoo on his face?”

“No?” Ren said, sounding confused as to how those two things could be related. 

“I’ll explain,” Aoba said, and told Ren the entire story. Sure, it was Koujaku’s personal business, but Aoba didn’t think Koujaku would mind Ren knowing. Ren, unlike Aoba, was known for his discretion. Besides, Aoba needed to talk about this with Ren to settle his own thoughts. 

The one thing Aoba neglected to tell Ren was how he had kissed Koujaku and then run off to bed like a blushing virgin afterwards. His own reaction to being kissed had startled him. Maybe it was because he had been thinking of Koujaku as off-limits for so long, or perhaps because in Aoba’s recent past, experiencing desire had usually led directly to a state of uncomfortableness or anxiety. Either way, Aoba hoped that he would get over it soon. Koujaku was such a gentleman that there was no reason to be anxious around him… except about the possibility of embarrassing himself, or of Koujaku saying something embarrassing to him. But that was a kind of awkwardness that Aoba could live with, as long as he was occasionally allowed to complain about it.

“I am afraid that I was completely unaware of any of this,” Ren said as Aoba finished explaining. “Well, I suppose I should say that I had noticed that Koujaku seemed to be troubled upon his return to Midorijima. But I imagined that it was most likely a temporary state.”

“You never said anything,” Aoba said reproachfully. 

“I thought it was obvious,” Ren said, making Aoba exclaim in annoyance. “We all knew his mother was dead,” Ren said by way of explanation. 

“No we didn’t!” Aoba said. How was it that Ren had noticed all of this, while he hadn’t known anything? It made him feel like a bad friend, that he had completely overlooked Koujaku’s suffering when even Ren could see it. Of course, Aoba hadn’t been at his best at the time when Koujaku returned from the mainland, but Aoba had thought that he would always know Koujaku well enough to read him. Maybe it was Aoba’s own assumption that nothing had changed between them that had blinded him to how Koujaku was really feeling. 

At the same time as all this, Aoba felt strangely empowered. He knew what the problem was, and so he could fix it. Maybe it was just the high from having been confessed to – and Aoba was still overjoyed about that part of last night in particular – but he was excited to stand by Koujaku’s side. 

“If you would like, I can tell you all the clues which pointed to it,” Ren replied, and Aoba rolled his eyes, not wanting to get into an argument with him right now. There was enough going on inside his head already. 

“No thanks,” Aoba said, a little sarcastically. “Let’s go see if Koujaku’s up instead, huh?”

“Oh, he’s up,” Ren said. “I heard him leave his room about half an hour ago, when you first woke me up.”

“There you go again, not telling me important stuff about Koujaku,” Aoba teased. Giving a little huff of amusement, Ren jumped off of Aoba’s chest and watched as Aoba got up.

It took Aoba only a few minutes to get dressed and tidy his hair. Then, he left the room to go and find Koujaku. 

Half-way down the stairs, Aoba realised he could hear voices – Koujaku and Beni’s voices. They were loudly arguing from the direction of the kitchen. Ren paused on the stair behind him, cocking his head to one side, then looking at Aoba questioningly. Aoba held up one hand.

“–still can’t believe it! What’s your problem?”

Beni’s voice, angry with Koujaku about something. Aoba reflected uneasily that it probably had something to do with last night. Shit. Doubtless Beni knew about Koujaku’s past already, so that left one thing: him. Did Beni think there was something wrong with Koujaku dating Aoba?

Slowly and quietly, Aoba descended two more steps to better hear Koujaku’s reply, and caught the tail end of it.

“–sorry, okay? I didn’t know how to tell you,” Koujaku said, sounding more annoyed than anything. Good. At least this wasn’t a serious argument, even if it was about Aoba.

“Did you seriously think I wouldn’t notice?” Beni squawked, tone filled with indignation. “You’ve been moping around nonstop, and then you started listening to that Bluejay guy who ripped off my look almost 24/7. I haven’t gone a single day without hearing some depressing song he wrote, so you’re damn lucky this “Redbird” turned out to be you or you’d be under the table by now!”

Hiding his smile under one hand, Aoba grinned from ear to ear. He didn’t quite know why, although the idea of Koujaku listening to his songs so frequently was flattering, of course. It made Aoba’s heart swell with warmth to imagine Koujaku sitting in his room and listening to his music, maybe thinking of him, maybe just enjoying the songs and the story. Aoba couldn’t help but feel that he was a little bit lucky, too.

“I have not been “moping around”,” Koujaku protested. “Lower your voice, you’ll wake Aoba.”

Aoba rolled his eyes at that one, since he wasn’t a baby.

“Koujaku,” Beni started, making no effort to lower his voice whatsoever, “Do you think I don’t have eyes, or are you just in denial? You haven’t slept with a woman in a year. A year!”

Unable to help himself, Aoba let out a surprised snort of laughter. Instantly, both of the voices in the kitchen went still. Aoba held his breath. 

“Aoba?” Koujaku called. Ren and Aoba looked at each other, Aoba still grinning. 

“Good morning,” Aoba said in a sing-song voice, bouncing down the stairs and into the kitchen. Koujaku looked up, saw the expression on his face, and started looking nervous. 

“Um,” he said, as Aoba casually draped himself over one of the kitchen chairs. Ren trotted over to the counter and stood on his hind legs, wagging his tail and looking up at Beni. 

“Good morning,” Ren said to Beni, who was still glaring at Koujaku’s back. 

“So did you hear what I said, or what?” Beni said, fluttering down from the counter to land beside Ren. 

“Beni –” Koujaku started. Aoba noted that there was some food out on the counter behind him, so he had to have been making breakfast. Strange, Aoba didn’t remember buying any of that stuff.

“I heard,” Aoba confirmed, and Koujaku scowled, turning back to the counter. Aoba suspected he was just embarrassed. “Feel like explaining?” Aoba said, knowing he was giving Koujaku a hard time, but genuinely fascinated to hear the answer. 

“No,” Koujaku said shortly. Beni hopped onto Ren’s head, and Ren trotted over to the chair next to Aoba, who knew what that meant. He picked up both dog and bird, putting them on top of the table where they could sit and survey the room together, just as Beni liked.

“He realised he liked you and he had a crisis about his sexuality. Now that I think about it, it’s pretty obvious,” Beni said. Aoba smirked. 

“Oh, it’s obvious?” Koujaku muttered, shaking his head. Beni looked like he was about to shoot back another reply, when Ren interrupted. 

“Did you sleep well, Koujaku?” he said politely, diverting the conversation. 

“Just fine, thanks,” Koujaku replied. “Beni and I went to the store this morning, so your fridge is restocked, Aoba.”

“Hey, you didn’t have to do that,” Aoba said, feeling a little bad since Koujaku was his guest. “You could’ve woken me, or something…”

“It’s fine,” Koujaku said. He turned towards Aoba and set two bowls of eggs on rice down on the table, one for each of them, then grabbed two glasses of water which were waiting beside the sink. Setting them down too, he sat down across from Aoba and picked up his chopsticks. 

“I hope this is okay,” Koujaku said, looking worriedly at Aoba with one big, ruby-red eye. Damn Koujaku and his stupid pretty eyes. Second best feature after his hands. Third best, after his stupidly cute yet rare smile? Hard to say. Aoba quickly gulped some water to hide any emotions that might accidentally be showing. 

“It’s good, yeah, thanks,” Aoba said, setting down his glass. It was just like Koujaku to make a Japanese-style breakfast, though Aoba himself could go for anything from cereal to cold pizza to pancakes to leftover salmon for breakfast. Eggs on rice was definitely a comfort food, though. Aoba was just glad Koujaku had been able to find the rice cooker. 

“Gross, food,” said Beni, who had always resented his inability to eat like a human. 

“Go ruin someone else’s breakfast,” Koujaku said. Aoba surmised he still hadn’t gotten over his argument with Beni that morning. Beni stuck his beak in the air snootily and sniffed, pretending to be offended. 

“Beni, would you like to come with me?” Ren said, standing up. Beni cocked his head to the side, interested. 

“Go with you? Where?” he said. Aoba grinned at Koujaku over his head, knowing Ren was rescuing them again, at least until Beni calmed down. 

“Aoba, will you please deposit me on the ground?” Ren said gravely.

Really smirking now, Aoba said, “Of course.” Once Ren had been placed on the ground, he immediately trotted over to the exit. 

“Hey, wait for me!” Ben said, flapping his wings vigorously to get enough lift to glide off the table after Ren. 

Once the two of them had disappeared through the doorway, Aoba and Koujaku burst into laughter. 

“I missed Ren,” Koujaku said, wiping the corners of his eyes with the back of one hand. “Not as much as you, but I missed him.”

“I missed Beni too,” Aoba said as they started eating. In some ways, Beni was as good of a friend to him as someone like, say, Mizuki, or Kou and Hagima from Beni Shigure. Living with just Ren, he had felt content. But now with both Koujaku and Beni here, the house suddenly felt a lot more alive. Aoba liked it. 

After a few bites of rice, Aoba thought of something that had been on his mind last night before he fell asleep. He should probably ask it now while he and Koujaku had a little privacy.

“Hey, I’ve got a serious question,” Aoba said, prompting Koujaku to instantly start looking nervous. 

“Yes?” he said evenly. Aoba chewed for a moment, trying to phrase his thoughts. 

“So… you said your tattoos are magic, right?” he said. 

“Yeah,” Koujaku said. 

“Well,” Aoba continued, “Aren’t they like… still magic? Is there a chance they might… activate, or something?”

Koujaku sighed, looking tired and a little pained. It was hard for Aoba to watch, Koujaku being so genuinely distressed, especially when Aoba knew he was sitting there hating himself. He really wanted to reach across the table and tell Koujaku everything was going to be okay. That was the kind of thinking that had gotten him into trouble where Mink was concerned, but with Koujaku, it felt different. Koujaku was actively trying to be a better person. That had to count for something. 

“Yeah, there’s a chance,” Koujaku said, and Aoba nodded cautiously, reserving judgement for now. “A pretty big chance, actually. I tried so hard to make it go away – the anger, I mean. I don’t want to a bitter asshole for the rest of my life. It just – it just won’t. So I have to live with it, and it – it’s hard.” Koujaku looked even more distressed, clenching his fist so that his chopsticks looked like they were on the verge of snapping in two. “But don’t worry, Aoba. I could never hurt you. And if I lose it in front of you, you have my full permission to use Scrap and stop me.”

“How do you know Scrap will work?” Aoba asked. Although he was still opposed to using Scrap if possible, he would be absolutely willing to use it on Koujaku’s behalf. He’d just have to hope that the good of helping Koujaku would keep himself from getting too corrupted by it. 

Abandoning his chopsticks entirely, Koujaku put his hand in his hair and started twiddling with his bangs again. “It’s worked before,” he said. Confused, Aoba tried to remember a time he had used Scrap directly on Koujaku, but he couldn’t.

“Just being near you when you use it… it’s pretty attention-grabbing, even when you’re not talking to me,” Koujaku clarified, and Aoba nodded. He took a moment to think about what Koujaku had said. So Koujaku was technically dangerous, but Aoba didn’t care. So was he. Obviously, it was important that Aoba know about all this, but there was no need to worry over it. Maybe in the future, Aoba would have to actually enter Koujaku’s mind with Scrap to help him through this, but there was no need to worry about it now. 

“Okay, thanks,” Aoba said, turning his full attention back to his half-eaten bowl of rice. Koujaku looked a little startled.

“Is that all you wanted to know?” he said cautiously. 

“Yep,” Aoba said with his mouth full. Slowly, the tense set of Koujaku’s shoulders relaxed, and his hand dropped from his bangs. 

“Oh,” he said, smiling briefly. “You know, I wish I didn’t have to tell you about this. I feel like I’m dragging you into my problems. I’m sorry, Aoba.”

“Whatever,” Aoba said dismissively, still with his mouth full. “I don’t care. Mink didn’t have any weird tattoos or anything, but he was like fifty times more of an asshole than you are, so don’t worry about it. I’d rather have you and your problems any day.”

Koujaku just looked at Aoba, straight-faced. Then he leaned across the table and kissed Aoba on the forehead, almost knocking over both of their glasses. A little red-faced, he sat back down. Both a little startled, Aoba and Koujaku ate in silence, Aoba somewhat shell-shocked and refusing to make eye contact. Thank god Beni and Ren hadn’t been in the room to see that, or they’d never hear the end of it. Just as Aoba was scraping the bottom of the bowl clean, Koujaku cleared his throat. 

“Um,” he said, but Aoba still wasn’t ready to look at him again. 

“I have a question, too,” Koujaku said. 

“Yeah?” said Aoba. Setting his bowl aside, he finally looked up to see Koujaku somewhat less pink, and almost done eating, too. 

“How is your hair, these days?”

“My hair?” Aoba said, confused. 

“Is it still sensitive?” Koujaku said, laying his chopsticks neatly across his empty bowl. 

“Why do you want to know?” Aoba said suspiciously, thinking that Koujaku probably wanted to do something corny like brush his hair for him. Would Aoba let Koujaku brush his hair? Probably, and just knowing that made Aoba cringe internally. It was stupid how much he liked Koujaku. Like a schoolgirl with a crush on a JRock idol. Thank goodness Noiz didn’t know about this, or he’d never hear the end of it. 

“Just, y’know,” Koujaku said lamely, gesturing at empty air. “It’s polite to check…”

“Yeah, you can touch my hair, just don’t do any dumb shit,” Aoba said forcefully, like his tone would hide what he was actually saying. To avoid the rest of this conversation he stood, took his bowl to the sink, and furiously started scrubbing it clean. Koujaku followed, fortunately letting the subject drop. 

Around the time the kitchen was finished being put back in order, Beni and Ren appeared in the doorway, looking a little too pleased with themselves. Beni asked where they were going, which was confusing to Aoba – until he saw the innocent look on Ren’s face and knew the three of them – Koujaku, Beni, and himself – were probably being played. Still, he decided to go along with it, suggesting an arcade as somewhere they could go that was fun but not too expensive. 

That was how the four of them found themselves in an arcade in the indigo district around half an hour later. Allmates couldn’t play most of the games by themselves, though there were some games designed for owners and their Allmates to play together. Aoba proved himself a master at Taiko on his first try, probably because he had a naturally good sense of rhythm. Ren stood on his hind legs and played the driving game with them, which Aoba lost because he was too busy laughing at Ren and Beni, who tried to help by pressing the buttons for Ren. Later, Koujaku owned everybody at Street Fighter, in spite of Beni pecking at his hands to try and get him to lose. 

A few times, in the dark, loud arcade, Aoba caught Koujaku just watching him, with a soft look on his face. Aoba had to mentally call Koujaku a few things like ‘dumbass’ and ‘sap’ and ‘hippo’ before feeling better about it. Was it a bad thing how nervous they both were about this? Aoba knew he was Koujaku’s first male lover, so it was understandable that he would be awkward – though it was also hilarious, in light of his usual collected demeanour. As for Aoba…

Well, he had always been a little shy, secretly, but some of this was probably residual nerves left over from... past relationships. And there was no denying that Koujaku really was a sappy idiot. It was hard to tell how much he actually meant or felt the stupid things he would occasionally let slip. It scared Aoba, how willing he was to buy into some of them as Koujaku’s real feelings. It scared Aoba, how much his body reacted when Koujaku did or said something overly loving. It scared him, but a part of him was thrilled. 

Later, in the dark at the back of the half-empty sixth floor, Aoba kissed Koujaku again. When Beni caught them and yelled “Oh my god” loudly enough to be heard over the ear-splitting noise from the machines all around them, they broke apart and returned to serious gaming, both red-faced. 

\---

After around three hours at the arcade, they returned home to lounge around a little before the show. They watched some TV on the couch with Beni and Ren while eating cold pizza. Finally it was time for the show again, so they walked to the studio, Aoba got rigged out as Bluejay, and Koujaku took up his post surveying the audience again.

This time it happened. Mink was there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm an Undertale fan, as you can see from the chapter title... [[x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dtYwq4aBr0E)]
> 
> “Under the table” = French euphemism for drunk (“sous la table”). I thought it would be a good stand-in for depressed-drunk, too. Also, Koujaku was totally lying about how much sleep he got. He stayed up late thinking about Aoba and how much he loves him. The big sap.
> 
> Oh my god, I just re-read this chapter and realised like 85% of it is run-on sentences. WHY.
> 
> So I just found out that there is a real club called the Monocle, and it’s in Paris, and it’s for lesbians. Wowee.
> 
> ~~We all know this fic is going to break 100,000 words if it's finished but I can't admit it because that's just terrifyiiiiing~~
> 
> Please comment I live on comments


	28. Milky Way

Seeing Mink’s massive silhouette around the third row of the audience was just as much of a shock to Aoba as it had been the first time. His hands on the keyboard faltered, but he forced himself to breathe deeply and keep playing, to tear his eyes away from the audience before he could start to panic. Yet he couldn’t help but let his gaze slowly roam back towards the spot where he had seen Mink standing, nearly freezing up again when he blinked and Mink didn’t go away. 

Then there was a flash of bright red, a sudden movement from the front of the audience as a few dancers were pushed out of the way. Koujaku was there, pressed right up against the front of the stage, worried face looking up into Aoba’s own. He gestured back somewhere behind him, face unreadable. Aoba knew that Koujaku was letting him know that he, too, was aware of Mink’s presence. 

_I can do this_ , Aoba thought to himself. Throughout the rest of the evening, neither Mink nor Koujaku moved from their places. Somehow, Aoba made it through the tortuous two hours until his set was over, hardly hearing the music he played. As soon as the set was over, Aoba booked it backstage, Koujaku following.

Inside the locker room, Aoba tossed Koujaku’s sword at his head as he came in. Then he started stripping off his Bluejay costume and cramming it into the locker with no concern for the fact that it was kinda fragile.

“Don’t worry,” Koujaku said calmly, “I’m ready to fight if I have to. That asshole will get what’s coming to him, I promise.” 

Was it just Aoba’s imagination, or did Koujaku sound like he was restraining a lot of anger right now? Because the last thing he needed was Koujaku and Mink trying to kill each other, which in light of some things he’d learnt recently could totally be a thing that happened. 

Making a snap decision he said, “Stay inside,” and Koujaku instantly opened his mouth to object. But Aoba had already made up his mind.

“I’ll use you as my trump card,” Aoba said, which didn’t seem to calm Koujaku down at all. 

“Aoba, this isn’t what we planned,” he started, but Aoba cut him off again. He felt tense enough to snap in half, but his thoughts were clear and he knew what he had to do. 

“Listen, I can do this. I’m going to go out there and tell Mink to fuck right off, you know that I will. I want to do this for myself. I need you, but I need you as my backup. Just let me handle it, okay?” Aoba said, slamming the locker shut.

Koujaku looked torn and more than a little concerned, but he finally nodded. “I’ll be right behind you,” he said. “I have my sword. The minute that bastard lays a finger on you I’ll – I’ll stop him.”

Aoba could see Koujaku’s anger getting worse and thought, _This is going to be a disaster_. If worst came to worst, he could just use Scrap on everyone, he reminded himself. Turning on his heel, he marched down the darkened hall to the exit.

As Aoba opened the back door, a gust of cool, fresh air hit his face, and he breathed in deeply. In the alley, the darkness was more complete than the neon streets around him, the main source of light the open road beyond the dumpsters from the neighbouring bar. Aoba himself was lit from behind by a faint, flickering light above the doorway behind him. The door clicked shut behind him, and Aoba’s heart stopped as a tall, bulky figure stepped out from behind one of the dumpsters and blocked his exit from the alley.

Aoba didn’t think for a second that it was anyone other than who he expected it to be. He knew that silhouette. He’d seen it a million times before, standing in the doorway to the bedroom with the hall light or the bathroom light behind him, in a dingy alleyway lit by a single streetlight. Instantly, his breathing picked up and his mouth went dry, his fists balling at his sides.

The figure stepped forward, into the pool of sickly yellow light Aoba was standing in. And then Mink was looking down on him, impassive as ever. Aoba hadn’t seen Mink in over three months now, and he hadn’t really known what to expect, but seeing him now was like seeing him for the very first time. Things that Aoba had never noticed – or maybe had forgotten – were bubbling to the surface of his consciousness, tainted as it was by his fear. Mink practically radiated strength and raw brutality. It was in the set of his jaw, in the stiff, proud lines of his body. He was a living statue with the threat of devastating movement at any moment. Solid and cruel. God, Aoba felt so weak in front of him.

The familiarity of Mink’s face was almost mesmerising. But Aoba couldn’t identify any of the emotions rising within him, except for the dark ones. Bitterness, fear. They might have stayed like that forever, just staring at each other in shock – or was it anger, in Mink’s case? – if Mink hadn’t broken the silence and spoken. 

“You know why I’m here,” he said. His familiar, deep, curt voice crashed over Aoba’s head like a wave. In that moment, Aoba almost cut and ran. Almost. 

“I do know why you’re here,” Aoba said, voice steady though his heart was pounding. “You’re here because you expressly ignored my note which said we’re over.”

As he finished speaking, Aoba automatically flinched away just in case, but his sarcasm wasn’t enough to prompt a violent reaction from Mink – yet. 

Instead, Mink nodded, almost like he’d expected this. He kept nodding for a long moment, a muscle working in his jaw. Aoba grew steadily tenser wondering what he was thinking, but he wasn’t about to give Mink the satisfaction of breaking the silence first.

At last, Mink said simply, “I see.” Aoba waited a moment, feet braced apart and body tensed for any eventuality, but Mink didn’t say anything more. When he realised that, Aoba rolled his eyes. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Aoba demanded, because he wasn’t going to play this stupid chicken game any longer than he had to. Suddenly, Mink made a move like he was going to grab Aoba’s arm, and Aoba dodged. He was so twitchy that he rammed his back into the door handle behind him, then hissing out a breath in pain.

“Don’t touch me,” Aoba snapped, freeing himself from the handle and nervously circling around Mink to stay at arm’s length. “And don’t think you can just do your tough guy thing and not explain yourself. I don’t owe you anything, and I’m not going with you. So unless you have something to say, get the hell out of here.”

Aoba really wanted to put his fingers on his back and see if it was bleeding, but every fibre of his body was focused on Mink and on staying out of his grasp. Aoba felt like Mink was toying with him, and it was seriously pissing him off. A familiar headache was pressing against his temples, but it wasn’t bad – yet.

“You ungrateful brat,” Mink said viciously, face twisting into a scowl, the first true expression Aoba had seen on his face since he had arrived. “You lived under my roof for longer than you deserved.”

“I didn’t even want to live with you,” Aoba said angrily, hands balling into fists. “You were the one who said it would be a good idea.”

“It was,” Mink said, still not having moved from the spot he had started from. “You need to be controlled, Aoba.”

“No, I don’t, not anymore,” Aoba spat back bitterly. Maybe Aoba was spoilt by being able to hear Sei and Koujaku say his name on a regular basis now, but hearing it from Mink’s lips made it sound twisted and rotten. His stomach twisted in response. “Not like you ever would have noticed, would you? Did you ever know me at all?” 

Mink looked completely unimpressed. He had also shifted his stance slightly as if he were prepared for Aoba to fly at him and attack him, which – funny thing, but Aoba had no intention of doing that. Seeing how badly Mink was misunderstanding him, once again, made him almost incoherently angry. 

Feeling a swell of boldness within him, he spat out, “Were we ever even dating, or was that all in my head?” Although it was backed with all of Aoba’s righteous anger, the question came out with a ragged edge of pain. Aoba stood, fists clenched tight.

Surprise briefly flitted across Mink’s face. “Of course we were,” he said, a little too quickly, then scowled. “I let you live in my apartment with your stupid dog and your stupid computer. Do you know the hours I wasted trying to keep you from being a danger to yourself and others – and me? And you’ve got the goddamn nerve to ask me something like that.” Mink shook his head. To Aoba’s dismay, he found that he was still so attuned to Mink’s tells that he could read the emotion behind Mink’s immovable expression: annoyance and regret. But he still couldn’t tell what Mink was thinking, and trying to guess was pushing Aoba’s skittishness to the edge. It was too much like the times when he would break a plate and then spend all afternoon analysing Mink’s different possible reactions, only to have Mink pick the worst possible one.

“Where I come from, we pay our debts,” Mink said stonily. 

Aoba’s stomach was really churning in acid now. It was a strange mix of rage and fear that he felt, like he was burning all over, and his head was pounding like drums.

“Yeah, I get it,” Aoba said bitterly. More words were crowding and choking his throat, and his tongue tripped up several times as his emotions poured out of him. “You wasted your time doing a lot of stuff for my ungrateful ass. But you know what? You didn’t give a damn about anything I did for you, either. I gave you _everything_. Everything!” Aoba slammed his fist into the cold black wall beside him. “I gave you my time, I gave you my money, I even gave you my music, and you didn’t give a damn. And maybe it didn’t seem like everything to you, but it seemed like everything to me. That’s the reason we are _never_ gonna work out, because you can’t fucking see it.” Aoba was so angry now that he could barely see straight. Still, Mink stared him down, like a statue, and Aoba wanted to scream.

“Are you even listening to me? Fuck you! It’s not – okay – to hit people – you’re supposed – to love!” Aoba managed to get out, and then he was silent, shoulders heaving and fist sagging against the wall. Something hungry twisted in Aoba’s gut, then, as he looked at Mink. He could use Scrap, if he wanted to – no one would stop him. He could reduce Mink to a gibbering mess, completely break his mind, or just convince him to hate himself for the rest of his life. Or he could ask Koujaku to fight him and watch both of them rip each other apart for Aoba’s benefit. 

_Shit._ Now Aoba felt a little panicky, as he realised where his thoughts were headed. Feeling like he was suffocating, he took a step back.

"Can you please," he said tightly, "Please just leave."

To Aoba's amazement, Mink sighed, a sound Aoba rarely heard him make. Giving a tense nod, Mink said, "Aoba."

Aoba waited, feeling sick and cold.

"I... may have sometimes been too harsh on you," Mink said. "For that... I'm sorry."

Aoba's jaw dropped. For the briefest moment, he caught a glimpse of Mink as he had been when Aoba first met him. Maybe a little softer around the corners, maybe a little more honest and willing to give. Aoba's head spun.

"But I need to know that you're not a danger to others. I will not leave until I know that for sure," Mink continued.

Blankly, Aoba nodded. Should he interpret that as a kindness on Mink's part, or just more brusque authoritarianism? He knew that Mink would never believe him if Aoba just said that he was safe and under control. But although he was still furious, he wanted this to end peacefully. Aoba didn't know if he had the strength in his body to physically fight.

"I have someone else now," Aoba tried. "Koujaku. I know... he'll keep me safe."

God, Aoba wished Koujaku was here right now.

Mink snorted. "You mean the twerp who runs Beni Shigure?" He paused, so Aoba nodded. 

"Huh," said Mink. Then he stood there looking stonily at Aoba, eyes flicking up and down his body, as if he were contemplating something. Suddenly he moved, and Aoba automatically flinched away, body preparing to defend him from a punch. But instead, Mink drew himself up to his full six-foot-two height and looked disdainfully down his nose. Before Aoba could do anything, he spoke.

All Mink said was, “Goodbye.”

And then he turned and walked away, fading into the crowd of people milling about in the bright purple light beyond. Aoba watched for a moment, the adrenaline that had surged through his body starting to wane, leaving him feeling empty and physically drained. Before he knew it, his legs were weak with exhaustion and he could barely stand. Putting one hand back on the wall, Aoba sank slowly to his knees and called out Koujaku's name. 

The door beside him slammed open so hard it hit the wall as Koujaku burst outside, took in Aoba kneeling on the ground, and immediately flew over to his side. Koujaku had emerged from the club with sword drawn, but now he quickly sheathed it and moved to put his arms around Aoba, lifting him up.

“Oi,” Aoba protested weakly, letting his body sag with tiredness against Koujaku’s sturdy embrace. In truth, he was glad for Koujaku holding him up, supporting him.

“Aoba,” Koujaku said, sounding a little choked up. Aoba couldn’t muster the energy to be annoyed with him, though he scowled into Koujaku’s shoulder.

"I'm fine," Aoba murmured. "He said goodbye, that was all."

"You're about to fall over," Koujaku said disbelievingly. "But you said he's gone?"

"Yes," Aoba said, unable to name the emotion swelling in his chest. Was it sadness? Relief? More anger? 

“Stop being mushy and take me home,” Aoba said, deciding not to think about it now. He felt Koujaku’s warm arms shift, tighten, still for a moment. Koujaku pressed his lips into the top of Aoba’s head, sending little prickles down his hair. 

“Koujaku,” Aoba whined. 

“Yeah, I know,” Koujaku murmured. Aoba stumbled a bit as he finally let go, then stood. 

It was time to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the last time Mink will appear in this fic, I think. In honour of that, I’m giving you all my writing playlist for him.  
> [M+nk](http://8tracks.com/rogueofheart/m-nk)  
> Warning: if you don’t like metal music/rock, this isn’t the playlist for you. Originally I just dumped every single angsty song I had onto here, so this is the edited version. For instance, I had Wooden Toaster’s “Rainbow Factory” on here. Well, who says Mink wouldn’t be a brony?? For some inexplicable reason, I also had “Blackout” by Breathe Carolina. It just seemed to fit. I’m a mystery to myself.
> 
> I hope that this chapter was satisfying to you all. I know a lot of people would have liked to see Mink get beaten into the ground, but I don't think Aoba would want that, angry though he is/was. I am also striving for realism with this fic, if I can, and if they killed Mink they'd have to find somewhere to hide the body...
> 
> BTW it's my finals week. If I could insert an emoji here, it would be a cup of coffee, you feel? 
> 
> Comments always welcome!!!


	29. Work In Progress

When they got home, Aoba flopped down on the couch and Koujaku brought him the remains of the pizzas from yesterday. Yesterday? It seemed like so much had happened in the past few days that it couldn’t possibly have been only yesterday. Two days ago? Aoba was losing track of time, and at this point he didn’t care. What Aoba cared about right now was food and sleep, in that order, with nothing in between. The minutes blurred together as he steadily munched his way through three slices of pizza, Koujaku hovering at his shoulder and saying quiet things, bringing him a glass of water and putting Ren down on the sofa beside him. 

Then there was another long blur of activity as a blanket ended up on Aoba’s lap, the TV went on for about ten minutes, the TV went off again, and finally the lights were out and Aoba went to sleep. 

\---

The next morning, Aoba woke up disoriented, sticky drops at the corners of his eyes. Rubbing his face with one hand, he blinked a few times until the world resolved itself into: light wood table, half-empty glass of water. Green-black sofa underneath him, cream-coloured blanket from the bed upstairs. Still fully dressed, Ren curled up in the hollow between his bent knees.

Beside them, Koujaku lay sound asleep on the other sofa, red kimono spread over him like a blanket, the sleeve dangling over the edge of the sofa and just barely brushing the ground. Beni was sitting on the pillow beside him, head tucked under one wing. Boy, Koujaku sure made some dumb faces when he was asleep. Grinning to himself, Aoba sat up quietly and carefully so as not to wake Koujaku or disturb Ren. 

Gross clothing and bruises from yesterday aside, Aoba was feeling pretty good about himself. Being the only one awake had a kind of magic to it, a feeling that the house was his and he could get up to all kinds of mischief without anyone knowing. Upon checking his Coil, Aoba found that it was pretty early in the morning – must be because he had gone to sleep so early last night. But the way he felt last night and the way he felt now could not be more different. The world was at his fingertips. Aoba wanted – Aoba wanted – 

He wanted to go write a song. 

Aoba pushed the blanket aside, depositing it in a heap next to Ren’s curled-up form. Standing, he found himself feeling a little bit sore and stiff, especially his back and wrist from yesterday’s sort-of fist-fight. He had to work pretty hard to make it across the landing and up the stairs quietly. Once on the second floor, he went straight to the rec-room-turned-recording-studio, incredibly grateful that Koujaku had helped him put the computer and keyboard back into place after the whole midnight-packing debacle. After making sure everything was in working order and his headphones were plugged in, Aoba sat down and pulled up Cubase to lay down a beat. 

Two hours later, Aoba was deeply immersed in his song, but not enough to miss the footfalls on the landing behind him. He became aware that Koujaku was standing at his shoulder, but he wanted to lay down the final cords of the first draft of the countermelody, so he didn’t look up. A few moments later, he saved the file and took off his headphones. 

“Hey,” he said. 

“Did I interrupt you?” Koujaku asked. Turning around in his chair, Aoba noted that Beni was riding on his shoulder, while Ren brushed past Aoba’s feet to sit under the computer table. So it seemed the gang was all there.

“Nah,” Aoba said. “What’s up?”

“I just woke up,” Koujaku said sheepishly. “I was going to take a shower and wash my kimono. You know, I don’t actually have any other clothes with me. I didn’t think I would be staying this long.”

“Yeah, you smell gross,” Beni said, but Aoba wasn’t really listening. 

Instead, a pang of sadness shot through him. He hadn’t thought at all about Koujaku leaving. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d imagined that maybe Koujaku could just stay here with him forever. Now that was stupid, wasn’t it? Mentally, Aoba kicked himself for his naïveté. Now that Mink was gone, Koujaku didn’t have any need to stay, and probably a lot of things calling him back into town. 

And of course, Aoba could go with him any time he wanted. But there were some things he still needed to take care of first. Mentally preparing to see Granny and Sei again, for one. 

“Something wrong?” Koujaku said, seeing Aoba’s expression change. Aoba sighed. 

“You’re going to have to leave soon,” Aoba explained, and Koujaku’s eyes flew open in shock. 

“You want me to go?” he said, expression more tragic than a kicked puppy. 

“What? No,” Aoba hastened to explain. “I mean, don’t you want to go back work and see Beni Shigure again? You don’t have to come to all my shows anymore.”

“What makes you think I don’t want to come?” Koujaku said, sounding genuinely confused. 

“Yeah,” Beni chimed in, “If we go home now, Koujaku’s just gonna sit around the house looking all depressed and listening to that song Hikari on repeat. Do you know how many times I’ve had to listen to that song? See, I even learned the name. Don’t do that to us, Aoba.”

“Shut up,” Koujaku muttered, scowling. Beni just looked smug. Aoba looked between the two of them for a moment, mind working furiously. _Damn, I guess Noiz was right about Hikari being depressing._

“It’s not like I want you to go,” he said. “I just thought… you have to go back to real life sometime.”

Koujaku sighed. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” he said. 

“But,” Beni prompted. 

“But I’m going to put it off for as long as possible,” Koujaku said, grinning widely. “I’m going to message Kou and Hagima and tell them to tell everyone not to expect me back for at least a week. And don’t worry, Aoba, I know how to get in here now. I’ll come visit you all the time, I promise.”

As Koujaku spoke, Aoba felt a warm glow suffuse his chest. 

“Thanks,” he said, a little shyly, glancing down at his keyboard. “Um, you can come whenever you want.”

“Thanks,” Koujaku said, then stood there like he didn’t know what else to say. “Well, guess I’ll go. Wash my kimono, I mean. See you later.”

“Hey, wait,” Beni said indignantly, as Koujaku was about to walk away. “Aren’t you going to let us hear that song you’re working on?”

“Huh?” Aoba said, glancing at his keyboard. Right, the song. Aoba had never showed any of his works in progress to anyone before, not even Clear. Sometimes he would put a demo on Ensou so he could get some feedback from Noiz or someone, but never something unfinished and unrendered. 

Ren nudged Aoba’s ankle with his nose. 

“I would like to hear too,” he said, prompting Aoba to look down at him in surprise. “In my experience, the songs you write directly following an emotional event are usually the best ones.”

“Hey,” Aoba laughed, not sure whether to be offended. Ren just looked up at him calmly, blinking slowly and apparently waiting for Aoba’s answer. 

“Yeah, sure, why not,” Aoba said, resisting the urge to pick Ren up and mess with him in front of Koujaku. 

“You don’t have to,” Koujaku said, as Aoba unplugged his headphones and turned up the volume on the speakers on either side of the monitor. 

“It’s fine,” Aoba said, shaking his head. He didn’t know how Koujaku, Beni, and Ren would feel about this song, but it felt good to have someone this interested in his music. If anyone deserved to hear one of his works in progress, it was Koujaku and Ren. And Beni, for putting up with Hikari for that long. Not even Aoba himself wanted to listen to that song more than a few times in a row. 

Koujaku waited as Aoba fiddled around with the volume for another moment before pressing play. 

[ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qPQww4-OXgw)

Aoba nervously watched Koujaku’s face for signs of a reaction as the music played. For his part, Koujaku watched the notes on the screen play until the piano kicked in. Then his eyes widened a little, and remained like that for the rest of the song. Aoba hoped that it meant he was enjoying it, not that he thought it sounded like crap. 

When the song ended, Koujaku said, “Wow, that was amazing, Aoba.”

Beni snorted. “I wouldn’t go that far,” he said. “Sounds like half of it was recorded in a paper bag to me.”

Aoba laughed, because some of the instruments he was using were definitely stand-ins at the moment. He didn’t really know where he wanted to take this song, or even what to name it, but if Koujaku liked it – that was good enough for him. 

“You guys, it’s just a work in progress,” Aoba said, answering both Koujaku and Beni at once. 

“I hope you finish it,” Koujaku said, which of course Aoba had planned on doing anyway, thanks.

“I’ll never finish it if you don’t get out of here,” Aoba grumbled. 

“Oh, right. Sorry,” Koujaku said. Beni, who probably knew what Aoba was doing, grinned as much as a robot bird could as Koujaku marched both of them out of the room. Finally, Aoba was left alone with Ren. 

“Good job, Aoba,” Ren said, standing on his back legs to get invited into Aoba’s lap. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Aoba muttered, lifting Ren up and giving him an absent-minded caress before setting him down on his knees. He was about to go back to editing the song, when a thought occurred to him. Pulling up a new tab on his browser, he went and checked his bank statement. There was a fair amount of money in there now. Enough to live on without a job for around three months. Three months wasn’t a lot of time, and Aoba didn’t think he was ready to go back yet, but bless The Monocle’s ridiculously high salaries. Last night, leaving the alleyway with Koujaku after Mink had finally gone away, Aoba had thought it was time to go home. At the time, home had meant this apartment. But maybe it was time to start thinking about planning to go back to Granny’s house. 

How much money would it take? How much did Aoba need in the bank to safely live on for a while? Those questions could be answered based on what work Aoba could find in town, which could be anything from another stint at the Junk Shop Heibon to getting another position as a DJ. In his wildest fantasies, Aoba saw himself working as an independent musician, or at another club like The Monocle where being a DJ was basically his full-time job. But that kind of work was hard to find, and risky in case of unemployment. And Midorijima was a small island. Maybe one day he and Koujaku could go to Tokyo – but that was really getting ahead of himself. For now, he’d have to do a little research and work as hard as he could at the job he already had. If he was lucky, maybe he’d be home within the year. 

He’d have to ask Noiz about that, and about getting Koujaku some kind of permanent pass into Platinum Jail. Speaking of which, he hadn’t spoken to Noiz properly in about three days now – three very eventful days. When was the right time to tell people that he and Koujaku were kindof together? Not really now, because Aoba himself could still hardly believe it. But Aoba figured his friends deserved to at least know what had gone down with Cockatiel – er, Mink. 

Pulling up the group chat, Aoba saw that Koujaku, Mizuki, Clear, and Noiz had held a conversation last night when he was asleep. 

**Kansuzume:** Is anyone online?  
**Crystal_Jelly:** I am here, Kansuzume-san!  
**mizu_hi:** yea wat up  
**Crystal_Jelly:** Is everything alright? Did you find Cockatiel?  
**Kansuzume:** Yes, he came to the club and we sent him away. That is, Aoba sent him away.  
**RuffRabbit:** Aoba? is that Bluejay’s name

Looking at the timestamps, Aoba saw that a good five minutes had elapsed after Noiz sent that message. Looks like Koujaku had freaked out a little and not responded. 

**mizu_hi:** its not like i didnt already kno so dont worry abt it  
**mizu_hi:** i bet he wont b mad  
**RuffRabbit:** you already knew? how?  
**Crystal_Jelly:** Wow, I can’t believe Ao-san almost told me his real name. That was very kind of him.  
**mizu_hi:** it turns out that koujaku n me both know aoba irl  
**RuffRabbit:** hey is “Koujaku” Kansuzume  
**Kansuzume:** Yes  
**Kansuzume:** Thanks, Mizuki  
**mizu_hi:** clears trustworthy n ruff lives in europe so its ok

Aoba snickered. Maybe he should have been more annoyed at Koujaku accidentally letting his name out into the group chat – and truth be told, he had felt a flutter of anxiety when he had first seen it – but at this point, what did it matter? Koujaku knew who he was, and Mink had already found him and left. Now he’d have to gently break the news to Granny and Sei that he was sorta famous-ish, but they had never known about Bluejay to begin with, as far as Aoba knew.

 **Crystal_Jelly:** Please don’t worry, Kansuzume-san. I will not use your real name for any bad purposes whatsoever, I promise.  
**RuffRabbit:** go back to the part where you three know each other in real life  
**RuffRabbit:** how did that happen  
**Kansuzume:** We knew each other when we were children.  
**mizu_hi:** yea k n me went to school together  
**mizu_hi:** aoba was just a kid tho so idk why k always hung out w him  
**mizu_hi:** then he grew up n got hot  
**RuffRabbit:** Clear, how’s Mizuki’s assessment of Aoba’s relative hotness  
**Crystal_Jelly:** Ao-san is a very handsome man. His hair is blue.  
**RuffRabbit:** no offense Clear, but his hair is fucking blue and you didn’t think to tell us this earlier? didn’t you think that might help us figure out who he was and how to find him  
**Crystal_Jelly:** I thought that it would be obvious because his name online is Sly Blue. A lot of things about him are blue.  
**RuffRabbit:** his eyes  
**Crystal_Jelly:** No, they are hazel.  
**RuffRabbit:** oh my fucking god

Aoba was starting to feel a little sad that he had missed this conversation, because it was pretty hilarious. Also, it was pretty weird to hear Mizuki’s assessment of him as “hot”, though he had a feeling Mizuki was just playing around. In any case, the only person whose assessment of Aoba’s hotness actually mattered to Aoba was Koujaku… who was conspicuously absent from this discussion. But Aoba was glad about that, because a comment from Koujaku could have diverted the conversation into a whole new territory, 

**mizu_hi:** scuse me but didnt u have news kou  
**Kansuzume:** Yes, I did. I said that cockatiel came to the club and we sent him away. I don’t think he will come back.  
**RuffRabbit:** ffs  
**RuffRabbit:** just use Cockatiel’s real name, why don’t you  
**mizu_hi:** its mank  
**Kansuzume:** No, it’s not  
**mizu_hi:** dude give it up its ok for them to know  
**Kansuzume:** You’re spelling it wrong. His name is mink, not that it matters.  
**mizu_hi:** no way  
**RuffRabbit:** get #rekt  
**Crystal_Jelly:** Kansuzume-san, could you please tell me if Ao-san is alright? I think this Mink person was very stressful for him, and I would like to know how he is feeling.  
**RuffRabbit:** yeah, what’s his excuse this time for not telling us the news in person  
**Kansuzume:** Aoba and Mink threw a few punches, but I don’t think either of them were injured. Now Aoba is asleep on the sofa.  
**mizu_hi:** its late did u feed him  
**Kansuzume:** He ate most of the leftovers. I’m going to go out and get some yakisoba in a moment. 

Oops. Aoba felt bad about having eaten everything and making Koujaku have to go out to eat. Hopefully the yakisoba had been good. Heaven knows where he had gotten it from.

 **Crystal_Jelly:** I am very glad that Ao-san is okay. I was worried about him!  
**mizu_hi:** yeah same

Yeah, yeah. It wasn’t like Aoba had been in any real danger… not after Koujaku showed up, anyway. Did Koujaku know that? Aoba would have to suck up his pride and tell him sometime.

 **RuffRabbit:** okay, thanks for the update. you can go now  
**Kansuzume:** Is that a dismissal?  
**RuffRabbit:** you just said you wanted to get noodles, so go get noodles  
**Kansuzume:** Thanks, I think I will. Asshole.  
**RuffRabbit:** no problem. bye  
**mizu_hi:** byee  
**Crystal_Jelly:** Good night!

And that was all the conversation there was. The timestamp on the last message was from around 8:00 the night before, so it was no wonder that Koujaku had slept for longer than Aoba. It was nice that Koujaku had told everyone the news, but now Aoba didn’t know if he had much of anything to add. He decided to just leave a couple of messages in the chat – Noiz wouldn’t be awake, Clear would be at work, and Mizuki might be available, but probably not. Besides, in spite of his constant abreviations, he never seemed to type that fast. 

**SlyBlue:** I was going to tell you all the news but I guess Koujaku already did.  
**SlyBlue:** Also I should probably say thanks to all of you guys for helping me.  
**SlyBlue:** But anyway I had this idea that I thought would be cool. I think you should all come to one of my concerts in Platinum Jail. Except Ruff we might have to record it or something.  
**SlyBlue:** I’ll give you all free admission to the club but I don’t know how to get you all into Platinum Jail. I have no idea how real guests get in here or if you can even afford to be real guests.  
**SlyBlue:** Anyone who has to stay overnight can stay in my apartment I have a guest room.  
**SlyBlue:** So yeah message me if you’re interested. 

After a few moments it became clear that no one else was online, so Aoba closed out the group chat. They would get back to him whenever. Probably Mizuki and Clear would both be able to come. If they did, Aoba would have to share his own room with Koujaku, put Clear in the guest room, and Mizuki downstairs on one of the couches. But never mind about all of that now. All that talk of yakisoba had made Aoba realise that he was starving. Hopefully there would still be something left in the fridge. 

“Hey, Ren, you wanna go get breakfast?” Aoba said. 

“Perhaps you have forgotten, Aoba, but I remain incapable of ingesting organic matter of any kind, including food. But if you are hungry, I would love to go downstairs to the kitchen with you,” Ren quipped. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Aoba said wryly. He deposted Ren on the floor, and they made their way down to the kitchen together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aoba's work in progress song is Dramatical Murder S from the anime soundtrack. I chose it on purpose (rather than Dramatical Murder F or Dramatical Murder) because it's the shortest of the three, making it more like a work in progress. 
> 
> If there are spelling errors in here, it’s because word turned off the spellcheck because the document got too long… It's over 145 pages long. Also I wrote this entire chapter today. Not really sure where it was supposed to be going but I sure did write it. xD
> 
> Guys, get excited for the next chapter. You know what's coming next. WE'RE DOING IT MAN WE'RE MAKING THIS HAPPEN 
> 
> Comments and questions always welcome!


	30. Rose Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains explicit but consensual sex. I make no promises of anatomical correctness ^^;;

Two nights before Koujaku was supposed to leave, he and Aoba were sitting on the couch in the living room, chilling out and watching some TV. Beni and Ren were in sleep mode on the other sofa, and Koujaku had his head on Aoba’s shoulder. Since the day Mink had left, physical affection had become a little more natural between them. Mostly Koujaku would make sad eyes and then Aoba would concede to whatever stupid thing he wanted to do this time, like putting his head on Aoba’s shoulder. 

It wasn’t really bad, though. In fact, it was pretty great. Totally the opposite of Aoba’s relationship with Mink, which Aoba had decided not to think about ever again if he could help it. Aoba still got flustered because he wasn’t used to someone actually wanting to hug him and hold him and all of that sappy relationship stuff, but if he had to be truthful about it… being with Koujaku felt pretty darn great. 

At the moment neither of them were paying attention to what was going on the TV screen. Koujaku was messaging Mizuki on his Coil, and Aoba was thinking about a conversation he had just had with Sei. Somehow Sei had ended up invited to the concert Aoba had already invited Noiz, Clear, and Mizuki to. Aoba didn’t know if he was ready to see Sei again so soon, even though clearly Sei was ready to see him. Of course – Sei missed him, Aoba might as well admit it. If there was a time when Sei had been angry with him, that time had long passed. Granny, no. Sei, yes. It was weird to think about, since Aoba was still angry with himself on some levels. Sometimes he feared that anger would never go away.

“You look mad,” Koujaku commented, not looking up from his Coil. 

“I’m thinking about the concert,” Aoba said. He briefly considered telling Koujaku about Sei. He could, if he wanted to. Koujaku would definitely listen. But frankly, he would rather be distracted right now. That was okay. This Sei thing paled in comparison to all the other shit Aoba had had to deal with lately. And if there was one thing Aoba knew for sure, it was that he was strong enough to handle a small problem like this all by himself.

If he could walk away from a six-month-long abusive/dependant relationship, he could do literally anything he wanted to. 

“So who’s coming?” Koujaku said, glancing at Aoba before his Coil pinged again and he turned back to it with an irritated look. 

“Clear and Mizuki, so far,” Aoba said truthfully. “Who are you talking to?”

“Mizuki,” Koujaku replied through gritted teeth. Aoba waited, studying Koujaku’s handsome profile silhouetted by the TV’s glow, but no answers were forthcoming. Aoba took the opportunity to watch Koujaku’s lovely long fingers dancing up and down on the Coil’s keyboard. Suddenly, he was irrationally annoyed that Koujaku wasn’t paying any attention to him. Those hands...

“Yeah, and what’s his deal?” Aoba said, reaching for the remote beside him and turning the TV off. Koujaku didn’t even notice. “You’re the one who looks pissed now.”

“Um,” Koujaku said in a distracted voice. 

“Earth to Koujaku,” Aoba said, trying to look at the Coil screen. Koujaku sure noticed that. 

“Cut it out,” he said, sitting up and holding the Coil at arm’s length from Aoba as he typed a reply to whatever Mizuki had said. Aoba gave a dive for the Coil, bowling Koujaku over and forcing him to hold his arm over his head. 

“Hey, I said cut it out!” he said, even as Aoba strained to read the last message Koujaku had typed: “It’s none of your business, Mizuki.”

“What’s none of his business?” Aoba said curiously, pinning Koujaku down on the sofa so he couldn’t get up. Koujaku’s face turned red, presumably with embarrassment. 

“Aoba,” he whined, squirming around until he was lying on his back underneath Aoba, arm still held over his head.

“Yeeees?” Aoba said. Finally, Koujaku gave up and switched off his Coil before Aoba could read anything else. Too bad. 

“It’s not what you think,” Koujaku started, instantly arousing Aoba’s suspicions. “Last week I messaged Mizuki and, um… I panicked, so I asked for his advice… y’know, if I should ask you out or not…”

Aoba burst out laughing. 

“It’s not funny,” Koujaku said crossly, “And now he won’t shut up about asking. But I didn’t get your permission to tell him, and so he won’t go away.”

To Aoba this was hilarious, but he supposed it was okay if Mizuki knew… although he and Koujaku would never hear the end of it. 

“You can tell him, but I want to see his reaction,” Aoba said, wiping the corners of his eyes with his sleeves. To his surprise, Koujaku grabbed both of his arms and pulled Aoba down until he was lying on top of him. A not undesirable position in the slightest. Aoba dipped his head and kissed Koujaku even before he was prompted. 

“Will you,” Koujaku said between kisses, “tell Clear and Noiz?”

“Later,” said Aoba, completely ignoring the actual question. Slipping one hand inside Koujaku’s kimono, he kissed and kissed him, enjoying the feeling of warm body beneath him and Koujaku’s hands holding on to his waist. 

Aoba’s breath was coming faster now, more like gasps than breaths, and he could feel himself getting hard and Koujaku responding. This same scene had played out twice before over the past week. The first time, Aoba had told Koujaku to wait for him again, and the second time they had been interrupted. This time, though. Aoba wanted Koujaku pretty badly, and he was running out of reasons to refuse his own desire.

Between kisses, he managed to pant out, “Koujaku, hey,” and Koujaku drew back. Aoba hesitated.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Aoba said, trying to sound casual.

“Upstairs?” Koujaku said, breathless, eyes flicking to Aoba's lips. Instead of replying immediately, he looked deeply into Aoba's face, thumbs still stroking Aoba's waist. For a moment the sound of their loud, mingled breaths filled the quiet room.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Koujaku said in a low voice. “I mean – with everything that’s happened –”

Aoba cut him off by taking his hand. Looking straight into Koujaku’s eyes, Aoba guided their hands down to his crotch. As soon as Koujaku's fingers brushed against Aoba’s jeans, his hand tensed and his face turned pink. 

“You feel that?” Aoba said, resisting the urge to press Koujaku’s hand against him again. “It means I’m ready.”

Nodding mutely, Koujaku glanced over at the staircase. Both of them sat up, Koujaku disentangling himself from underneath Aoba. Before Aoba could get up, Koujaku stilled him gently with one hand against his shoulder.

Reddening a little more, Koujaku said, “Can I carry you?”

Aoba looked at the staircase. Looked at Koujaku’s blushing face, considered telling him he could walk on his own two feet. But Koujaku looked so hopeful, and Aoba wanted to trust him so badly. Embarrassing though it was, what was the harm in saying yes?

Koujaku was waiting for Aoba’s reply, tense as a live wire. Feeling the blush rise to his cheeks, Aoba said nervously, “Yeah. Okay.”

“Aoba…” Koujaku sighed, and Aoba felt desire rise within him like a great choking wave. 

“Come on,” Aoba begged, and Koujaku quickly got up, then bent down to hook one hand under his knees and the other around his back. Aoba put one arm around Koujaku’s broad shoulders, and was lifted up from the sofa. This close, Aoba could see the blush across Koujaku’s cheeks, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously, the simultaneous desire and nervousness burning in Koujaku’s eyes. Placing his free hand on Koujaku’s chest, Aoba could feel his heart thudding wildly out of his ribs, just as loud as his own. A guy like Koujaku should be calm and collected in a situation like this, but he wasn’t. God, Aoba loved him for it. 

And Koujaku wanted him too, Aoba could see it. Even as Koujaku started walking slowly towards the stairs, Aoba huffed out a little moan, reached up, and brought their lips together again. 

When Koujaku started going up the stairs, he and Aoba were still kissing, slowly and languidly this time, Koujaku’s hands occupied and one of Aoba’s still pressing up against Koujaku’s bare chest. 

Around half way, Koujaku stopped, kissed Aoba all the harder, and said, “Tell me what you want me to do to you, Aoba.”

Swallowing, Aoba said, “Aren’t you the love expert? You tell me.” 

It should have come out as flippant, but Aoba was too turned on to sound anything other than desperate. Koujaku resumed walking slowly up the stairs, his steps dogged and sure, his hands clutching Aoba tightly to his chest. It was torture to be so close and yet barely touching skin at all, so Aoba put his free hand on Koujaku’s shoulder and started pushing at the collar of his kimono, baring a smooth expanse of skin on his un-tattooed shoulder. 

“I’ll do anything you want,” Koujaku said raggedly, “Anything at all. I’ve been waiting for – ugh.” Koujaku broke off as Aoba’s lightly wandering fingers reached the base of his scalp. Aoba could actually feel Koujaku shiver, and felt like he was going to suffocate in this clothing if Koujaku didn’t take him out of it soon. Both of them were already sweating. 

“I’ve always wanted this with you,” Koujaku said, voice husky. They reached the door to Koujaku’s bedroom, and Aoba had to turn the doorknob for him so they could get into the room. Once inside, Koujaku lowered Aoba down onto the bed, then grabbed a small bottle of what Aoba presumed was lube from the bedside table. Knowing what that meant made Aoba’s pulse quicken with anticipation.

“Alright?” Koujaku said, putting one leg over Aoba and kneeling above him. Not bothering to reply, Aoba pulled Koujaku down towards him and hungrily pressed their mouths together. Aoba put his hands back on Koujaku’s shoulders, pulling out his hairpin with one hand and pulling his kimono over the tattoed shoulder with the other. 

In between the entwining of tongues and the trapping of lips between teeth, Aoba panted out, “You’d do anything I want?”

“Yes,” Koujaku breathed, pulling Aoba’s shirt up. 

As he hosted it over Aoba’s head, Aoba said, “You’d even let me fuck you?”

Averting his eyes, Koujaku let out a deep breath through his nose. “Yeah,” he admitted, “I would.”

Aoba’s stomach swooped. From the speed with which he replied, Aoba knew that Koujaku had thought about different ways of having sex with Aoba, maybe even imagined them. _Fuck_.

“Is that what you want?” Koujaku said, hands going to stroke Aoba’s sides, his thumbs pressing against Aoba’s ribs. Reaching up, Aoba pushed the bangs on the left side of Koujaku’s face aside, saw that he was blushing again. Like this, he looked more vulnerable than Aoba had ever seen him before, even as he turned his head without hesitation to kiss and nuzzle into Aoba’s palm. 

“Not now,” Aoba said, putting his hand between Koujaku’s shoulder blades and pulling him back down on top of him. “Surprise me,” he said impulsively. 

Dipping his head, Koujaku gave a little grunt of agreement and began mouthing at the soft skin of Aoba’s neck, finding a tender spot then nipping and sucking gently. Aoba moaned and tilted his head back, baring his throat for Koujaku to lavish attention on at will, and involuntarily rolling his hips. Meanwhile, one of Aoba’s hands was carding through Koujaku’s thick, loose hair, the other stroking his broad and muscular back. Koujaku was responsive, shifting his hips or flexing his back every time Aoba hit a sweet spot with his eager hands. 

As for Aoba, he willingly surrendered moans and gasps of pleasure as Koujaku’s mouth swept over his collar bones and left lush bruises on his skin. It had been so long since he’d felt like this, like every nerve in his body was singing and eager, free and powerful and completely unafraid, his legs parting at will, every part of him just ready. From the way Koujaku’s hands were roaming over Aoba’s chest and sides, caressing him without reservation, it was obvious that he felt the same. The world shrank down to four points of contact: Aoba’s hips against Koujaku’s hips, Aoba’s hand in Koujaku’s hair, Koujaku’s hand on Aoba’s nipple, and Koujaku’s mouth on Aoba’s chest. Aoba could feel Koujaku’s soft, wet mouth moving lower on his torso and knew that it was just like his golden dream. Love, they were making love, and it felt like it was going to last forever.

As Koujaku reached Aoba’s hips and began nosing at the soft blue down that covered Aoba’s nether regions, Aoba moaned in anticipation. Koujaku kissed one of his hips, and then he was finally touching Aoba’s dick. Aoba felt like he was losing his mind when he opened his eyes and saw Koujaku’s long, beautiful fingers wrapped around his length, Koujaku looking back up at him with pupils blown wide. Aoba knew that if he could see himself in the mirror right now, his own eyes would look like twin lunar eclipses.

“Aoba,” Koujaku said in a low voice. “Is this okay? I’ve never – I mean I haven’t –” 

That’s right, Aoba was Koujaku’s first male lover, Aoba thought hazily. 

“Don’t stop,” Aoba said, and the words were almost a groan. How could he say anything else when Koujaku’s hands were on his – and touching – and moving like – oh fuck – 

Letting go of Aoba’s dick, Koujaku tenderly kissed the insides of his thighs. There was a brief moment of nothing, and then Koujaku was crawling back on top of Aoba, lube-slick hand tentatively slipping between Aoba’s cheeks and tenderly fingering the soft skin there. The two of them shifted so that they were lying on their sides, Koujaku still half on top, with one finger in Aoba’s ass and his mouth on Aoba’s nipple again. Reaching down, Aoba managed to put one hand on Koujaku’s behind, prompting him to whimper in pleasure and fidget his hips impatiently up against Aoba’s thighs.

“Don’t,” Koujaku groaned, looking up at Aoba’s face. “I’m not going to last that long, Aoba, please.” Aside from desire, an emotion uncomfortably close to unconditional love was shining out of Koujaku’s face. Aoba swallowed hard, even as Koujaku slipped in another finger and made Aoba shudder all over. Withdrawing his hand, Aoba traced the lines of Koujaku’s back, following the curves of his shoulder-blades and the jagged shapes of scars. Then Koujaku’s searching fingers pressed up against Aoba’s sensitive walls in just the right place, and fuck, Aoba just –

Throwing his head back, Aoba let out a loud moan of pleasure and heard Koujaku growl in response. 

“Aoba, Aoba,” Koujaku panted roughly. 

“If you’re going to put it in, do it now,” Aoba groaned, knowing he was close.

“No way,” Koujaku said, to Aoba’s surprise. “I’m going to make you cum with nothing but my hands.”

“You –” Aoba said incoherently in response, voice cutting off into a whine. Still pleasuring Aoba’s ass, Koujaku fitted their hips together, then took both of their dicks in one hand and started giving experimental little thrusts of his hips. It was all Aoba could do to wrap his arms around Koujaku’s broad back and dig his fingers in, rolling his hips in time with Koujaku's movements.

“Ah, fuck,” Koujaku moaned helplessly, beginning to grind harder. Aoba gasped in pleasure, the feeling of Koujaku sliding up and down his dick in time with the firm but measured rolls of his hips overwhelming all of his senses. He was blind, lost in the feeling of Koujaku on and inside him, hunger and desire running hot through his veins. Koujaku was moving with him, they were moving together, Koujaku’s hot, desperate panting filling his ears. Every one of Aoba’s breaths came out as a gasp, intense bolts of electricity prickling all over his body. 

“Koujaku,” he groaned, which only made Koujaku fuck against him harder. 

“Koujaku,” Aoba tried again to warn him, and Koujaku dropped his face to the crook of Aoba’s neck and kissed him. 

That did it for Aoba. Hips arching forward, he came into Koujaku’s hand, a wave of intense pleasure engulfing his body. Since Koujaku hadn’t finished yet, he made an effort to keep moving his hips in time with Koujaku’s thrusts, but it was hard when all of his limbs had grown heavy and he felt like he was floating. A few moments later, Koujaku came all in a rush, then lay heavy and still on top of Aoba. 

“Aoba,” Koujaku said at length, voice warm and loving. 

“Pull out,” Aoba said, because Koujaku’s hand was still in him. Making an apologetic noise, Koujaku did as Aoba said, then rolled off of him and lay beside him, looking as wrecked as Aoba felt. 

“God, I love you,” Koujaku breathed. Even exhausted, Aoba managed to find the energy to flush lightly at Koujaku’s words. There was a long moment of silence, both of them panting still. Aoba's eyes closed and he started drifting away into sleep in spite of the stickiness coating his lower body. Then he felt a feather-light touch on his forehead as Koujaku oh-so-gently swept Aoba's bangs away from his sweaty forehead. 

“Do you want to go shower?" Koujaku said, and Aoba groaned. Sleeping sounded so good to him right now, but he knew that if he did he’d wake up disgusting in the morning. After debating the merits of staying here versus going to have a quick shower, he said petulantly, “Fine, and you're changing the sheets."

Koujaku gave a low chuckle. 

“Of course,” he said. It took a moment, but Koujaku finally mustered the energy to sit up. All Aoba could do was roll over and smush his face into the pil-

“What is that?!” Aoba yelped, sitting up fast. There was what appeared to be a fresh bloodstain on the pillow right beside where his head had lain not two minutes ago in post-coital bliss. Koujaku turned, saw what Aoba was looking at, and grimaced.

“Is that my blood?” Aoba said incredulously. “What the hell did you do?” Although Aoba didn’t remember experiencing any excruciating pain during sex, his first thought was that Koujaku might have bitten him hard enough to break the skin. Where else would that have come from?

Koujaku was looking uncomfortable, which only made Aoba more suspicious. 

“Koujaku,” Aoba started, but Koujaku interrupted him. 

“It’s not yours,” Koujaku said, sounding a little annoyed. “It’s mine, so don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry? What are you talking about? Where did it come from?” Aoba said, intently studying Koujaku’s body to see if there were any obvious wounds in the head and neck area. The area around his nose and mouth was a little pinker than usual. Aoba completely understood nothing. 

Aoba’s scrutiny seemed to be making Koujaku uncomfortable. Folding his arms over his chest, he looked away and muttered, “It was just a nosebleed, okay? Sometimes I get them when I’m really turned on, so it’s your fault.”

Koujaku looked totally disgruntled, and it was adorable. Aoba couldn’t help himself; he burst out into laughter. It felt – at this moment, as with many that had preceded it – like he was seeing Koujaku’s true personality, and he was fantastic. As Aoba laughed, Koujaku’s face turned redder and redder with embarrassment. 

“I’ll wash it tomorrow. We can sleep in your bed tonight,” Koujaku said, grabbing Aoba by the wrist. Still laughing, Aoba allowed himself to be pulled from the room. 

\---

The morning after, Aoba woke up slowly, light from the open curtains gently filling the room with a peaceful, floating sensation. Opening his eyes and shifting a little, Aoba found himself face-to-face with Koujaku, who had draped one arm loosely over Aoba’s waist. Clingy, Aoba thought to himself in that foggy just-woke-up kind of way. 

As he watched, Koujaku’s eyelashes fluttered. Aoba found himself gazing back into a pair of sleepy red eyes. Yes, a pair – whatever Koujaku did to his hair, it had washed out in the shower last night, and now his bangs were draped across the pillow underneath him, along with the rest of his silky blue-black hair. In the warm light of morning, Aoba realised that he was seeing Koujaku’s tattoos fully for the first time – he hadn’t paid much attention last night when they were showering together. The arm draped across him was covered in thick black stripes, ending in a winglike sprawl over his shoulder and back. The rest of his back bore a delicate spread of red roses and soft green leaves. It made Aoba a little bit sad to see, knowing that these tattoos were so beautiful and yet so wrong.

“Sleep well?” Koujaku said, voice soft, banishing Aoba’s melancholy thoughts. For a moment, the two of them just looked at each other quietly, Aoba not quite sure what to say, and too tired to care. Koujaku’s lips curved gently upwards into a smile.

“Mm,” said Aoba, shifting around a little. As he did so, he noticed that his butt and thighs were a little sore – a feeling he wasn’t unaccustomed to. Weirdly, feeling it this morning gave him an immense sense of satisfaction, even pride. Normally having a sore ass after sex was just straight up annoying. What was different? It took Aoba a moment to figure it out, but maybe it was because this time, well… he had really wanted it. And he’d been more than ready. And it had gone really well, too, except for the nosebleed thing. 

Remembering that, Aoba grinned. 

“What is it?” Koujaku said suspiciously. Aoba’s eyes flicked to the (clean) pillow beside him, and Koujaku scowled before Aoba could even answer the question. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Koujaku said, which just made Aoba laugh. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Aoba said. Koujaku looked like he had just swallowed something bitter, and it was hilarious. Since Koujaku teased Aoba all the time, Aoba felt no shame in squirreling away this little memory for use as future ammunition. 

“You,” Koujaku said exasperatedly, and the two of them lapsed back into comfortable silence. 

Now that he was more fully awake, Aoba didn’t really know how to handle this situation. It was so weird, to have another warm body next to him, touching him yet asking for nothing. Aoba felt like he should be doing something, like he should either get up or offer to have sex with Koujaku again. But Koujaku didn’t seem like he wanted to go anywhere or do anything other than lie there. Aoba didn’t know why, but he felt kinda curious. What would happen if he reached out to touch Koujaku’s arm? His chest? Would it be permitted? 

Tentatively, Aoba put his hand on Koujaku’s shoulder. When Koujaku didn’t move, Aoba stroked a gentle line down Koujaku’s arm. Koujaku closed his eyes and relaxed, letting Aoba repeat the motion a few more times. Aoba felt like he was petting a giant cat, only it was Koujaku instead. 

Just as Aoba decided he was definitely not doing this intimacy thing right, Koujaku said, “I love you, Aoba.”

“Y-yeah,” Aoba said, startled into stilling his hand. “Me too…”

Geez, if this scene got any more romantic Aoba would reach critical levels of embarrassment and explode or something. Koujaku had no sense of timing…

As Aoba was thinking this, Koujaku opened his eyes again.

“If you’re going to say something sappy, I’m leaving this bed,” Aoba warned him. 

“Actually, I was thinking,” Koujaku said. “Since I’m leaving tomorrow, I thought we should go back to the arcade today.”

That’s right, Koujaku would be going tomorrow morning early. Thinking about it, Aoba felt a pang. Although a lot had happened in the past week and a half, he felt like there was a lot that they still had left to say and do. Thank god Koujaku had promised to come back soon. 

“Yeah, sounds fun,” Aoba said, mind flashing back to the last time he and Koujaku had gone to the arcade and ended up making out in a corner. Not that the games hadn’t been fun too, of course. Maybe this time he could get a new high score on Taiko. 

“You want to take Beni and Ren?” Koujaku said. 

“Yeah, why not?” Aoba replied. 

Koujaku smiled. 

“Let’s get up?”

“Yeah,” Aoba said. In spite of that, they both lay there for a moment, Koujaku seemingly enjoying holding Aoba, and Aoba wondering what to have for breakfast. Then Koujaku groaned, rolled over, and sat up. Finally, Aoba followed suit, and the two of them set off to face the new day together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AWWW YISS, WE BROKE THE 100,000 WORD BARRIER! Land sakes alive, we are really cooking with petrol now!
> 
> First of all, you should know that the title of this chapter comes from the Pentatonix song [Rose Gold](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Agn7-P0FRHY). Please listen, it's amazing. I was so excited to write this chapter. I’ve been working on it since chapter 24. Also, I think it’s a little cosmic that this ended up being chapter 30, when the original smut chapter (“Gold”) was #3. I like that.
> 
> Writing this scene was a challenge because of several reasons, mostly Koujaku’s inexperience with guys and poor stamina with Aoba, coupled with me not knowing which position to pick for them. I’ve written anal sex three (?) times before, as par for the course for several m/m pairings, but I really should have been taking into consideration the personalities of the characters. Canonically, DMMd has a lot of anal sex in it, but I felt like this was the best way to go in the end. I hope you all enjoyed it!
> 
> I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but I’ve been commenting in the author’s notes that a lot of parts of this fic were challenging. Why am I complaining so much? Well, friends, I got ambitious with this fic. Please bear with me. 
> 
> How did Koujaku find Aoba’s prostate with his hand on the first try? (note: idk how much smut y'all have read (i'm assuming a lot) but the prostate is basically the internal male g-spot.) Well, Aoba’s assumption that Koujaku had been thinking about having sex with him a lot was Not Wrong. That’s all I’m going to say.
> 
> Comments and questions always welcome!


	31. Until You Will Return

The next morning, Aoba and Koujaku followed Noiz’s directions to a hidden exit to Platinum Jail, since the way Koujaku had come in wasn’t accessible from the inside. At the wall, Aoba turned to him, awkwardly sticking his hands in the pockets of his jeans. 

“Well… see you, I guess,” Aoba said, flashing a quick and lopsided grin. Koujaku wondered if he was feeling anxious about their imminent parting. To tell the truth, Koujaku himself was feeling a little nervous about it. This was only the first time he’d seen Aoba in about a year, even though their reunion had gone better than anything he could have imagined in his wildest and best of dreams. 

“Yeah,” Koujaku said, fidgeting. Would it be appropriate to give Aoba a goodbye kiss, or would Aoba just scold him for being sappy?

“Remember, I’m going to talk to Clear and Noiz tonight, so make sure you talk to Mizuki before then,” Aoba said. Koujaku knew he was talking just to have something to say, since he had already said this like three times on the walk over. The silence between them grew as Koujaku kept up the internal debate.

“Are you going to, like, try and kiss me or something?” Aoba burst out suspiciously. 

“Oh god,” muttered Beni, who was sitting on Koujaku’s shoulder. 

“Go sit on someone else's shoulder,” Koujaku told him, prompting Aoba to laugh as Koujaku put his hands on Aoba’s waist. 

“Can I?” Koujaku said. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Aoba muttered, and both of them were smiling stupidly as Aoba kissed Koujaku. 

“Dumbass hippo,” Aoba said as they separated, Koujaku feeling a little bit better.

“Can we leave now?” Beni whined. 

“Yeah, get out of here, I have a show to put on,” Aoba replied. Obediently, Koujaku turned to the wall and used the hacking virus Noiz had put on his Coil to get the door open. 

“Bye now,” Aoba called as Koujaku disappeared inside the wall. 

“Bye!” Koujaku called back, and Aoba waved and shut the door behind him. The entire tunnel went dark, and Koujaku momentarily panicked. Then Beni’s eyes lit up, bright and white like LED headlights on a car, illuminating a few feet of the way in front of them. 

“I forgot you could do that,” Koujaku said, knowing that if he looked straight at Beni’s face right now, he’d be practically demonic. 

“You’re lucky you have me around, you know that?” Beni said, sounding pleased with himself more than anything else. 

“Yes,” Koujaku said honestly. 

“Damn right,” Beni retorted. 

They walked for a few moments in silence, Koujaku focusing on putting one foot in front of the other and not getting claustrophobic. The tunnel was wide enough for two people to walk abrest comfortably, but his hair was brushing against the ceiling constantly. One of the downsides of being born tall in Japan. Koujaku wasn’t sure whether this or that creepy subway tunnel he had taken to get here was worse.

Ah, but the journey over had been so much different than the journey home. Koujaku thought about all the things that had happened in the past two weeks – meeting Aoba again. Hearing about Aoba’s past, and telling Aoba about his own. Hearing Aoba play at the club. Learning that Aoba loved him – god, Koujaku was so lucky. Sending Mink off for good. Making love to Aoba for the very first time. Koujaku had to wonder what had possessed him to try and carry Aoba up the stairs, which could have ended badly for both of them, but he didn’t regret a thing. 

He didn’t know if he regretted it, exactly, but he wished that he could have done more to help when Mink showed up. After charging into Platinum Jail with big promises of helping to keep Aoba safe, he had expected more of himself, and he thought that perhaps Aoba might have as well. 

“Would you quit that?” Beni said, abruptly interrupting Koujaku’s thoughts. 

“Quit what?” Koujaku said, wondering if he had been running into the walls or something. 

“You keep sighing and heaving your shoulders when you do it, and it’s throwing me off-balance,” Beni said. “You don’t have to be so melodramatic when we both know you’ll be going to see Aoba again faster than you can get your pants off.”

Koujaku grinned at Beni’s suggestive imagery, knowing he was spot-on in that particular assessment. Still, that wasn’t what was troubling Koujaku.

“That’s not it,” Koujaku explained. “I was just thinking that I should’ve done something to make sure Mink never comes back.”

“There’s no way that’s going to happen,” Beni said. Koujaku was impressed at how certain he sounded, when he hadn’t actually been there on the day that Mink had left. “He’s scared of Scrap, and you have a sword. If he was going to waste his time trying to kidnap Aoba, he would’ve figured out where he lived instead of stalking him at the club, so don’t worry about it. I bet the real reason you’re mad is because you went charging in all heroically with your sword like a real hot-shot, and then Aoba didn’t let you do anything.”

Koujaku’s instinct was to retort immediately, but Beni’s observations were uncharacteristically astute. Thinking back to the scene in the alleyway, Koujaku realised something. In the moment he burst into the alleyway, he had been faced with two options: kill Mink, or don’t kill Mink. Though Koujaku wished he had realised what was going on in time to stop Mink from laying a finger on Aoba, he was glad that he hadn’t just cut Mink down where he stood. If he had, it would have been another senseless death on his conscience. Although he still hated Mink, Koujaku was incredibly thankful that he hadn’t been made a murderer again.

And it was strange, but when Koujaku thought about it now, the blinding rage which normally accompanied thoughts of Mink was just… absent. It was disconcerting, expecting to feel that deep emotion but instead encountering nothing. Koujaku hadn’t even known it was possible for him to stop being angry at someone. Something had changed, and Koujaku was willing to bet that it was all because of Aoba.

“You know what? You’re right, but I’m glad I didn’t kill Mink,” Koujaku told Beni. Just then, the beams of light from Beni’s eyes lit up a doorway ahead of them. 

“Thank god, I’m sick of this place,” Beni said fervently, and Koujaku agreed. One more scan of his Coil, and the door unlocked to him. After this long in the darkness, the light from the other side was blinding – not bright, pulsing, and coloured like the lights of Platinum Jail, just regular, ordinary sunlight. After spending so much time in a place where neither night nor day truly existed, Koujaku was a little surprised that his internal clock was still so well synched up to real daylight.

After his eyes had adjusted, emerging on the other side of the wall was totally jarring. Instead of the bright lights, colours, and crowds he’d become accustomed to over the past two weeks, he was greeted with drab, crumbling grey and brown buildings with accusing, empty black windows. The city was still, holding its breath. 

Knowing that there were dangerous people living around here, Koujaku tried to be on his guard. Beni, too, made no comment as they made their way through the deserted north Old Resident district, grit and glass from broken windows crunching underfoot. Once, Koujaku thought he saw someone rounding a deserted street corner, but otherwise they saw no signs of life. Finally, they reached the fence separating the north from the other three parts of the Old Resident district. Finding a place where the fence was torn, Koujaku used his sword to widen the hole and little, and crossed back into relative civilisation. Both he and Beni heaved sighs of relief. 

“Well that was a fuckin’ trip,” Beni said, and Koujaku agreed. 

It took them around another 45 minutes of walking, but they eventually arrived back on Koujaku’s literal home turf: Beni Shigure territory. Koujaku purposefully entered via a contested section of the border, and sure enough, Kudamono and Momo were re-doing the tags there as Koujaku arrived. 

“Koujaku-san, you’re back!” Momo said excitedly when she turned and saw him, nearly spraying Kudamono with red paint.

“Hey, watch it!” Kudamono said, sidestepping Momo’s spray-paint can. Koujaku grinned, realising he’d missed Beni Shigure maybe a little bit more than he’d realised. 

“Good to say you guys,” Koujaku said casually, like he wasn’t strolling back into town after breaking and entering the infamous Platinum Jail, spending every night at a club made for super-rich people, and going to bed with his male best friend, now lover. Nope, just business-as-usual Koujaku-san. 

Eventually, Koujaku would probably have to admit to them that he was dating Aoba. He didn’t know how and he could only hope that they wouldn’t take it badly. 

“Any news?” Koujaku asked. 

“Oh no you don’t!” Momo said, in a mock-offended tone. “I’m not telling you a thing until you tell us where you’ve been. What happened? Is everything okay?”

“Momo-chan,” Kudamono hissed, digging his elbow into her ribs and making her jump in surprise. But Koujaku wasn’t annoyed by Momo’s question at all, feeling a little bad that he hadn’t given Kou and Hagima permission to tell everyone else where he was.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Koujaku said. “I was in Platinum Jail.”

“Platinum Jail?” Kudamono gasped, and Momo nearly dropped her paint can. 

“Everyone has to hear about this, right now,” Momo said. “Let’s go get katsudon!”

“What?” said Koujaku. And just like that, Momo had whipped out her Coil and started messaging the Beni Shigure group chat. Kudamono made an apologetic gesture at Koujaku behind her back. Moments later, they were on their way to a local café to meet up with more members of Beni Shigure. Koujaku had not planned to explain himself in front of an audience, but… well, it’s not like he wasn’t used to it. He wished he could do it in Mizuki’s bar and kill two birds with one stone, but it was bad form for a Rib team to patronize an establishment outside the bounds of their territory too frequently or in too large numbers. 

As it was, they managed to nearly fill the café. Koujaku explained what Platinum Jail was like and how he had gone there to visit a well-known internet musician – and was fairly surprised when everybody wanted to know why he hadn’t gotten Bluejay’s autograph. Then he listened to stories of fights everyone had been in, most notably a two-on-one between Nashi and two guys from Bug Bomb. They stayed there for around four hours, ordering multiple rounds of food, until the dinner hour rolled around and Koujaku found himself getting dragged out to go clubbing with Kou, Hagima, Sakura, and Momo. 

The rest of the evening was a whirl of lights and music, dancing and talking loudly over the chatter of other dancers. Koujaku had a pretty good time, although he wished he had an opportunity to check the group chat and see if Aoba had messaged Noiz and Clear yet. At some point, Sakura and Momo tried to get him to dance with some twins they had just met. Koujaku recognised the girls as customers of his, but it was laughable how little interest he had in either dancing with them or taking them home. He danced with them twice for courtesy’s sake. 

At around midnight, Kou and Hagima had to go home. Koujaku, wondering if Mizuki’s bar was busy, took the opportunity to excuse himself from the party too. When he arrived at the Black Needle, he found that there were still quite a few customers inside. Still, Mizuki spotted Koujaku as soon as he walked in. 

“You’re back!” Mizuki called over the din, running over to Koujaku before he could even take a seat at the bar. 

“I want to hear everything, and I want to hear it now,” Mizuki said, putting one hand down on the bar for emphasis, right next to the little red radio. Koujaku noted with some surprise that it was playing a very familiar melody – the demo of the song Aoba had shown him when he was in Platinum Jail. Aoba must have posted it that afternoon while Koujaku was spending time with Beni Shigure. Koujaku itched to check out the description Aoba had posted along with the song, but he knew it could wait. And Mizuki seemed to be demanding his full attention at the moment. 

“Aren’t you in the middle of… something?” Koujaku said, waving vaguely at the room full of customers. It was a wonder how Mizuki’s bar stayed open when he was always socialising with the patrons, not that Koujaku was complaining. 

“No, we’re overstaffed tonight. I was just helping out for fun. Come out to the back with me,” Mizuki urged, lightly pulling Koujaku’s sleeve. 

“I can’t even have a drink?” Koujaku complained theatrically, but he let Mizuki lead him out to the parking lot so they could have a private conversation. Unlike last time, the night was warm and a little humid, the breeze refreshing. Mizuki grabbed a bottle of sake on the way out, which was probably a good thing since Koujaku was already a little tipsy from his bar visit with Beni Shigure. 

“Okay, what happened? Did you ask Aoba out?” Mizuki said, looking way too eager. 

“Why do you care so much?” Koujaku said suspiciously, tasting the sake. Pretty much exactly as it always was at the Black Needle. 

“Oh come on, you guys are some of my best friends,” Mizuki said, sounding genuine to Koujaku’s ears. “You know I was worried about Aoba. And you too, since you messaged me that time. Liking a guy isn’t the easiest thing in the world, man.” 

“I can take care of myself,” Koujaku said, rolling his eyes fondly. Trust Mizuki to worry way too much – though Koujaku knew where the instinct came from, since he was a Rib leader, too.

“I know –” Mizuki started, exasperated, but Koujaku cut him off. 

“We’re together,” Koujaku said. Mizuki’s jaw dropped. 

“You did it. You really did it. I’ll be honest, I didn’t think you were going to,” he said, and Koujaku nearly spat out a mouthful of sake. 

“Why the hell did you keep asking me about it, then?” he spluttered, the sake stinging the inside of his nose. Mizuki put up both hands in protest as Koujaku angrily handed the bottle back to him. 

“So I could be encouraging. What base did you get to?” Mizuki said, utterly without shame. Mentally berating himself for not having expected this, Koujaku scrambled around for a way to say “none of your business” and not get called out for it, or else come up with a summary of events that sounded satisfying but totally obscured what had actually happened.

Unfortunately, he took so long that Mizuki said, “That far, huh? Good for you. I hope you and Aoba had a good time.”

When Koujaku looked over at him, he saw Mizuki looking genuinely pleased for Koujaku. Maybe he wasn’t actively trying to tease Koujaku, but he wouldn’t bet on it.

“I need more sake if you’re going to keep asking things that are none of your business,” Koujaku said, holding out his hand for the bottle. Mizuki took a swig and then passed it back to him. 

“Thanks,” Koujaku said, taking a few sips. Probably soon would be the time to stop drinking. He didn’t feel compelled to finish the bottle in the slightest, especially as he hadn’t paid for it. All harassment aside, it was nice to be out here on a pleasant night, talking with one of his closest friends, and comfortably tipsy too. 

“So now what?” Mizuki said. 

“Hmm?” Koujaku asked, setting the bottle on the sidewalk next to him. Not drunk enough to knock it over, probably. 

“I mean, when is Aoba coming back? Are you guys gonna have a long distance relationship?” Mizuki said. Koujaku shrugged. 

“Yeah, a temporary one. Aoba doesn’t want to come back to town until he has something to show his grandma. Like an apology, I think. I don’t understand it, but I can get into Platinum Jail whenever I want, so I’ll just wait for him here until then,” Koujaku said. As far as he was concerned, this situation was a huge improvement on the situation of three weeks ago, where he still thought Aoba was on the mainland and maybe never coming back. He could live with visiting Aoba every other week or so, even if it did mean walking through the creepy north Old Resident district all the time. 

“Guess we just have to wait until he decides he’s ready,” Mizuki said sagely. “Hope it’s fast. I miss him.”

“Aren’t you going to the show?” Koujaku said, referring to the gig at the Monocle that Aoba had promised to put together for all his online friends and Sei.

“Yeah, of course,” Mizuki said. “Say, aren’t you going to tell me about Platinum Jail?”

“Sure,” Koujaku said, knowing that he was setting himself up to be here until a very late hour. But he didn’t mind that either. He Mizuki all about the fabled Platinum Jail, its arcades and streets, the Monocle and the ramen-ya. After that the two of them got into a discussion about Aoba’s music, and finally Koujaku found himself walking home at around 3am. 

Once inside his apartment, Koujaku collapsed onto his futon, exhausted but content. His apartment felt quiet and still, a little bit empty because it hadn’t been lived in for an extended period of time. But everything was just as he had left it, down to the laundry in the hamper. Getting ready for bed, Koujaku threw all his clothing into the hamper, grateful that tomorrow he could wear some clothing that he hadn’t had to hand-wash in the sink or borrow from Aoba and turn inside out. 

Finally, he checked his chat client and found some messages from Aoba and some messages in the group chat. He read Aoba’s first, of course.

 **SlyBlue:** Hey Koujaku I hope you got home okay.  
**SlyBlue:** I messaged Noiz and Clear in the old group chat and told them about what happened so you should go read it. It’s pretty hilarious.  
**SlyBlue:** I don’t know if you’ve already seen it but I posted the wip to Ensou with some more Bluejay lore and stuff. Check it out if you have the time.  
**SlyBlue:** Guess that’s all talk to you tomorrow!

Ah yes, Koujaku had heard the work in progress song playing at the Black Needle earlier. Even though it was late, he wanted to listen to it again, so he pulled up Ensou as he skimmed through the group chat. It started with this:

 **SlyBlue:** Hey guys I have to tell you something.  
**RuffRabbit:** you’re pregnant  
**Crystal_Jelly:** I am very confused as to how you could possibly come to that conclusion, RuffRabbit-san.  
**SlyBlue:** Don’t worry he’s joking. Anyway the thing is I finally got together with Prince Redbird.  
**RuffRabbit:** don’t be a drama queen and tell us who it is already  
**SlyBlue:** It’s Koujaku or Kansuzume if you forgot his real name.  
**Crystal_Jelly:** Wow! That’s amazing! Congratulations to you and to Kansuzume-san both!  
**RuffRabbit:** I can’t believe you just made me read this with my own two eyes  
**RuffRabbit:** now I’ll have to listen to you writing nothing but cutesy love songs for the next 500 years  
**Crystal_Jelly:** Excuse me, but I would like to celebrate Ao-san’s happiness properly, without getting into an argument. I think he deserves to have some after he fought so hard to leave Cockatiel and be free again.  
**RuffRabbit:** this is the worst day ever. I just got sassed by Clear  
**RuffRabbit:** okay, fine. Sly, you have my sincerest congratulations. just as long as you promise not to go on about it  
**SlyBlue:** Whatever I’ll take it. 

Aoba’s assessment of the conversation as “hilarious” was pretty accurate, as far as Koujaku was concerned. Noiz had totally deserved to be “sassed” by Clear. After that, the conversation turned into a barrage of questions by Noiz and Clear, similar to the ones Mizuki had asked Koujaku though not nearly so risqué. Koujaku was willing to bet that Noiz wanted to know all of Aoba’s personal business, but he apparently wasn’t willing to ask about it in front of Clear. 

Finally, Koujaku turned his attention to the newly posted wip and its description. The song hadn’t been changed much since Koujaku had last heard it, except that it no longer sounded like it had been recorded in a paper bag. As it played, he read the description:

_When all the other birds in the forest realised that Cockatiel was gone, they went to Bluejay’s cage and asked if he was going to come out now. Bluejay wanted to leave, but he didn’t know how. So Swallow came, and Albatross came, and Mockingbird came, and Redbird came too. Together they tried to figure out how to open Bluejay’s cage. And Bluejay started to become excited, thinking about how he and Pip could be free when the cage door was opened._

It was true, this song did sound “free”, if Koujaku had to put an adjective to it like that. “Upbeat”, or “hopeful”, if he was trying very hard. Was Aoba going somewhere with this description? Koujaku had no idea how he came up with the Bluejay stories, except that they were loosely based on Aoba’s real life. It might have seemed that the answer to this question was the first thing Koujaku should have asked Aoba after finding out he was Bluejay, but he had wanted to avoid the awkwardness that could have come from accidentally initiating another confession from Aoba that Redbird was madly in love with Bluejay because Aoba was madly in love with Koujaku. 

Just thinking about it made Koujaku grin. 

When the song ended, he finally closed out Ensou and turned off his Coil for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIRST AND FOREMOST go check out [this sick ass fanart](http://hereoctopusdumplings.tumblr.com/post/153787034466/for-akumeoi-and-their-fanfiction-i-always-wait) that @Blacksprut/hereoctopusdumplings drew for this fic. Pretty awesome, huh?? (Thank you!)
> 
> [Chapter title origins](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ApdkDCkIZ10)
> 
> I totally didn’t plan on writing this chapter, but Koujaku needed a wrap-up POV chapter. There are 2 chapters left, minimum. In case you forgot, Swallow is Mizuki, Albatross is Clear, and Mockingbird (at the advice of @Lonescript) is Noiz, though he hasn’t had a character song. (The one Aoba wrote for him was Usagimodoki, if you forgot).
> 
> Did you know you can get sake in what looks like a juicebox in any konbini in Japan? Good stuff. (You can also get a pack of gum with 6 different fruit flavours in it, by a company called Xylish. Who knew.)
> 
> I had hoped to get this fic finished by December. Well, that didn't happen, but let's see if I can finish it by Christmas. I am living in a state of near-constant stress, but you know, it's probably possible. 
> 
> Comments always welcome!


	32. Only Finally There Is The Free End

KOUJAKU

The morning of the concert, the first thing Aoba saw when he woke up was Koujaku’s dark hair spread out over the pillow between them. Without even thinking about it, Aoba threw one arm over Koujaku’s back and held him gently, careful not to wake him. Doing that made him feel kinda guilty – like he used to when he rode the motorcycle with Min – you know what, Aoba wasn’t going to finish that sentence. Instead, he softly rested his forehead against the back of Koujaku’s neck and closed his eyes again. He could feel Koujaku’s silky hair against his cheek, his solid warmth in his arms, his mostly bare skin soft against Aoba’s own. 

It was pretty fucking great.

Today Sei, Mizuki, Clear, and Noiz were coming to watch Aoba play at the Monocle. The plan was for Mizuki, Sei, and Clear to stay the night here, while Noiz had somehow scraped up the money to pay for a hotel room. All of them would be coming to the apartment by mid-afternoon, then they would go to the Monocle, and then they would go to the least expensive restaurant possible. Because this was Platinum Jail, after all. 

Aoba was nervous about seeing Sei, excited to see Clear and Mizuki, and… well, he had no idea how he felt about meeting Noiz. Good, probably. 

Koujaku shifted a little, and Aoba had to quickly lift his head from the pillow to make sure he didn’t pull Koujaku’s hair. In doing so he saw that Koujaku’s eyes were open now. He quickly went to lift up his arm, but Koujaku grabbed his hand and forced him to stay as they had been before.

Aoba pouted for a moment because it was a little embarassing to be caught spooning, but whatever. Letting out a little huff of feigned annoyance, he snuggled up closer to Koujaku’s back – and Koujaku let him, which never ceased to surpise him. It was nice, though. It was nice. 

“Morning,” Koujaku said, raising Aoba’s hand to his lips and kissing his fingers. 

Aoba retaliated by shoving his face into the back of Koujaku’s neck again and muttering, “Morning.” Koujaku continued playing with his fingers until Aoba irritatedly shook his hand loose and planted it back on Koujaku’s chest again.

They lay like that together for another ten more minutes. Aoba had almost fallen asleep, when his Coil buzzed. After feeling around behind him with one hand, Aoba managed to grab it from the bedside table and read this message:

 **indelibleIllustrator:** hey just letting you know im on my way to the docks to get Clear. ill let you know when we are on our way to Platinum Jail !

“What is it?” Koujaku murmured.

“Sei’s gone to get Clear,” Aoba said, suddenly feeling wide awake. He sat up, and Koujaku rolled over and looked up at him – with both eyes. Aoba loved that Koujaku didn’t hide that from him anymore, though he still styled his hair carefully every day, making sure no one else could see his tattoos. So it was really only in the morning and at night that Aoba got to see Koujaku’s whole face. But those times were the times that only belonged to Aoba anyway. 

Struck by a sudden urge, Aoba took Koujaku’s face in both hands and kissed him on the lips. Koujaku tried to follow him as he pulled away, and they ended up kissing sitting up, one of Koujaku’s hands on his waist, Aoba’s hand still on Koujaku’s cheek. Finally, Aoba let go reluctantly and got out of bed. 

“You want me to make breakfast?” Koujaku asked. Aoba thought about it as he shrugged on a shirt, wondering how many hickies from last night he’d have to cover up before Sei got here. At least Koujaku, with his tattoos, had a long history of covering up the marks on his skin by various means, so Aoba would probably just borrow a couple of leaves out of his book. If he parted his hair on either side of his neck, hopefully no one would notice. 

“Yeah, sure,” Aoba said distractedly. Koujaku, perhaps picking up on his scattered mood, came up behind him and put his hand on Aoba’s shoulder. 

“You know this is going to be okay, right?” he said. 

Aoba turned and smiled briefly up at him. 

“Yeah,” he said, and he meant it in spite of how his heart was beating. “But thanks.”

 

-  
SEI

That afternoon, Aoba was feeling a little jittery, but not too nervous. He and Koujaku had spent the morning finishing getting the apartment ready for guests, a task which had included running out to the store for more soy sauce and mirin, taking out the trash in the downstairs bathroom, and re-dusting surfaces that had been dusted yesterday just for the hell of it.

It was weird, but he could viscerally feel Sei getting closer and closer through their psychic bond. When he had lived with his family, he had never really noticed how strongly he could feel Sei’s emotions at any given moment. When he had gone to live with Mink, the connection between himself and Sei had become sort of fuzzy, but still readable. On the mainland, it had been a disconcerting void. Now Aoba could feel Sei’s nervous anticipation, getting stronger and stronger with every minute. It had been so long, Aoba barely knew how to respond. Tentatively, he tried to broadcast feelings of welcome, and Sei’s nerves seemed to abate a little. Still, hard to tell if he had had any effect. 

But by the time Sei had entered the Indigo District – and Aoba somehow knew exactly where he was – the two of them were exactly on the same wavelength, feeling joyful anticipation coming in stronger and stronger waves as their feelings bounced off of each other and returned. Finally, Aoba stood up from the sofa – startling Koujaku, who flinched in surprise – walked to the front door, and threw it open just as Sei reached the front steps of the apartment. Sei’s jaw dropped, but Aoba didn’t hesitate. He strode directly down the steps and pulled Sei into a hug. Making a little surprised noise, Sei gratefully put his arms around Aoba and held on for all he was worth.

In the car behind them, Mizuki was staring out the window on the driver’s side, and Clear was scooting towards the open door in the back seat. Aoba saw all of this from over Sei’s shoulder, but he did his best to ignore it. 

“I missed you, nii-san,” Sei said into Aoba’s shoulder. 

“I know,” Aoba said simply, because he could feel it. Sei sighed, then fortunately let go before the hug could become uncomfortably long. 

“Thanks for coming,” Aoba said, partly out of honesty, and partly to have something to say. “Did you have any trouble getting in?”

“No, Noiz sent us fake tickets,” Sei said, looking doubtful. Aoba knew he must be having reservations about technically breaking in, but given the cost of entry to this place, there was no way Sei could have afforded it otherwise. 

Just then, Clear appeared at Sei’s side, dragging a taped-up rolling suitcase Aoba remembered seeing in the closet in the hall at his house. “Ao-kun!” Clear exclaimed happily, as Mizuki rolled up a second suitcase beside him. Sei took the opportunity to go back to the car and grab a backpack and dufflebag out of the boot. 

“Wait, should I call you Aoba-kun now?” Clear said frowning. 

Aoba honestly didn’t care, and he was kinda used to Clear calling him ‘Ao’, so he just shrugged. “Whatever you want, Clear-kun,” he said easily. “Also, uh, welcome to Platinum Jail. Let’s go inside.”

With that, he led the three of them into the apartment, where Koujaku was hovering anxiously in the living room, with Ren and Beni perched on the back of the sofa beside him. When he saw that Aoba looked calm, Koujaku relaxed and came over to help with the bags. First, he had to introduce himself to Clear, who looked a little awed at how tall and colourful Koujaku was. Clear asked if Koujaku was really Redbird, to which Koujaku responded in the affirmative, a little amused and a little modest at the same time, looking over at Aoba for confirmation. Aoba just raised his eyebrows and hauled Mizuki’s suitcase into the house. 

“This apartment is so fancy,” Mizuki commented as Aoba finally closed and locked the door. Clear and Sei were looking around, impressed by the fancy décor, and Aoba didn’t see Koujaku anywhere. 

“Hey Koujaku,” Aoba said, looking around and wondering where he had gone.

“I’m getting drinks,” Koujaku called back from the kitchen. 

“Thanks,” Aoba called back, then ushered Clear and Mizuki to sit down on one of the couches. Just then, Koujaku came out of the kitchen with a couple of glasses, which he put on the table between the two sofas. Aoba glanced at the suitcases and thought to himself that if things were this hectic now, things later would be ridiculously crazy. Noiz hadn’t even arrived yet. As Koujaku asked their guests what they wanted to drink – Aoba was so happy that Koujaku was familiar with this apartment and could be counted on to do things like that – Aoba turned to Sei. 

“Come help me get these bags upstairs,” he said. Somehow he could sense that Sei had something to say to him still, so they had better get it out of the way now.

“Of course,” Sei said, picking up his backpack again. Koujaku made a move as if to help Aoba instead, but Aoba just shook his head and pointed back at the kitchen. Finally, Aoba and Sei made it up the stairs with Sei and Clear’s bags in hand. 

Once inside the guest bedroom, Aoba set Clear’s stuff down at the foot of the futon that was rolled out in there, and Sei’s at the foot of the bed. The decision to put Clear on a futon in Sei’s room had been obvious at the time, because it was clear by now that the two of them liked each other. The more opportunities Aoba could give them to be alone together, the better. 

“You put me and Clear in the same room?” Sei said suspiciously. Aoba tried to look innocent. 

“You know, he told me that one time you said he would be a good housewife,” Sei commented, catching Aoba’s eye. 

“Shit, I did say that,” Aoba said, and both of them laughed. Then the room grew a little awkard, as Aoba and Sei both looked at the bags and Aoba realised he couldn’t stall for too much longer in here, but he didn’t know what else to say. 

“Nii-san…” Sei said, looking unsure. “You’re okay, right? Everything is okay now?”

Oh, so this was the thing Sei had wanted to say. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Aoba reassured him, putting his hand on Sei’s shoulder. “I was an idiot, but I’m okay now, I promise.”

Sei smiled, looking relieved. Aoba was a little irritated that he couldn’t tell what Sei was actually feeling, but hopefully that ability would return in time. Sei grabbed Aoba into another quick hug, and then they went back down into the living room, where Koujaku had set out a glass of soda for Aoba and another one for Sei in front of the two empty places on the sofas. 

Plopping down next to Koujaku, Aoba picked up the soda and said, “What did we miss?”

Mizuki explained that he had just been telling the story of how they had picked up Clear from the harbour that morning. It turned out that Clear had come over on his motorcycle, and left it at Mizuki’s place. Then the three of them recounted their journey from Mizuki’s house to Platinum Jail. Just as Mizuki was about to start telling some recent stories about Dry Juice’s adventures, the doorbell rang. 

Aoba checked his Coil. Should be Noiz, right on time. 

“I’ll get it,” he said, making ‘sit down’ motions at Koujaku and heading for the door. When he opened it, he nearly shut it again directly after. 

There was a very bored looking, punk-y blonde kid standing on his front doorstep. 

“Hey,” said the kid. 

“Um… Noiz?” Aoba said, taking in the earflap hat, the four facial piercings, the Allmate-cube suspenders, and… everything else, really. Aoba had seen people who dressed like Noiz before, even known some, but almost all of them had been straight-up criminals. 

“Yeah, I’m Noiz, and are you gonna let me in?” Noiz said, raising one eyebrow. It was then that Aoba saw it: attached to Noiz's ridiculous necktie was a pin with Bluejay and Redbird on it. Aoba had absolutely no idea what to think.

“Oh, er, yeah, right,” Aoba said, stepping aside so Noiz could enter the apartment. When Aoba turned around he saw that everyone else had stood up and were looking at Noiz curiously. For a moment, Aoba was afraid that they would take one look at him and say, ‘Who is this kid?’

Instead, Clear took one look at Noiz, and gave a happy gasp. “Ruff Rabbit-san!” he exclaimed, coming hurriedly over and hovering around excitedly. 

“Let me guess, you’re Clear,” Noiz said, looking him up and down. 

“It is very nice to meet you!” Clear said, enthusiastically bowing. Noiz inclined his head slightly in reply. 

“One, I already met you, two, my name is Noiz, and three, don’t worry, you’re already my favourite,” Noiz said to Clear. Turning towards the couch, he tilted his head to one side and sized up everyone else like he had Clear. 

“Okay, you’re obviously Aoba, because your hair is blue,” Noiz said, gesturing at Aoba. “You,” he continued, looking at Koujaku, “Look like you’re trying too hard, so you’re probably Koujaku.” He gestured at Sei and Mizuki. “That means one of you two is Mizuki, and the other one is Aoba’s brother. I’m gonna guess that the less gay-looking one is Mizuki. You?” he pointed at Mizuki. 

“Wow, I can’t believe Noiz-san knows who we are even though he has never met us before,” Clear said, taking his place on the sofa again. Koujaku was looking a little sour about being told he was trying too hard, while Mizuki looked like he was on the verge of bursting out into laugher, and Sei just didn’t know what to think. As for Aoba, he was simultaneously pissed and amused. Like he usually was when talking to Noiz. But in real life, it was a bit more of a visceral feeling.

“Yeah, I’m a wiz kid,” Noiz said, plopping down on the sofa beside Clear. “What’s up with you guys?”

“We were just talking and chilling, you know how it is,” Mizuki said, still looking very amused. “I was gonna say how one of my teammates almost got put in jail for doing some baking.”

It was pretty obvious the story was going to involve a bag of either powdered sugar or flour, but Mizuki had a way with storytelling, so Aoba didn’t mind listening. 

“By all means, please continue,” said Noiz. Although Mizuki of course did not need Noiz’s permission to tell a story, it restored some of the calm that had been present in the room before he arrived. Aoba honestly did not know what to make of Noiz in person – his appearance and demeanour were both so jarring. Though Aoba chalked part of it up to Noiz being foreign. Still, he hoped that they could make it through the evening without Koujaku trying to fight him or anything drastic like that. 

While Aoba fretted about how to keep the peace, they listened to Mizuki tell stories for about another half hour. Finally, it was time to go to the Monocle. Aoba and Koujaku shepherded everyone to the door, and they hit the streets of Platinum Jail. 

 

-  
BLUEJAY

[[full concert playlist]](https://playmoss.com/en/rogueofheart/playlist/sky-blue-sky-full-concert)

When they arrived at the club, everyone but Aoba went in through the front. Aoba hurried to the locker room, grabbed his Bluejay costume, and then went backstage to wait for the DJ performing before him to announce him. Aoba hadn’t been nervous about this show before, since he performed here every single week. But now, he was getting a little antsy – and it was true, this performance was special. Not only were all of Aoba’s friends here, but because Aoba had forewarned the manager he was planning to perform every single one of his most famous songs tonight, the manager had seen fit to get some extra lights and effects for him. The manager was pretty pleased about this concert, saying that it would definitely bring in extra guests and make them all a whole bunch of money. 

Well, that was good for him. Aoba’s primary concern was making sure all his friends enjoyed themselves. He was mentally reviewing the set list in his mind when he heard the music from the stage die down and a hush fall over the club. Then the DJ – a girl who Aoba didn’t know the first thing about, since he only performed after her one night a week – announced that SlyBlue would be coming onstage in ten minutes. Nerves intensifying, Aoba waited as she came backstage to the sound of applause, nodded at him in a friendly way, and disappeared out into the hallway. Aoba waited a few moments until one of the two techs who operated the computerised light and sound systems showed up and told him they were ready for him to go onstage. 

Stepping out onstage, the lights momentarily blinded him as they always did, but not so much that he couldn’t fake a confidant walk over to the keyboard that was waiting for him. Normally the applause from the audience when he showed up was pretty minor, because most of the people in the Monocle came there just to dance. But today they gave him a pretty good round of clapping, to which Aoba responded by bowing and angling the microphone towards him. Though he couldn’t see it himself, he knew that one of the spotlights was projecting the bars of a cage on a blue background behind him, and briefly wondered what he must look like up here with the wings and the mask that Sei had made. He gave the front of the crowd a quick scan and saw every single one of his friends had somehow gotten themselves a place up there. Aoba grinned and launched into the first song, always a crowd favourite – Fighting!. 

Playing the familiar melody helped settle Aoba’s nerves a little. His hands seemed to fly over the keyboard, the beat of the song pounding in his ears and in his blood. He found himself wishing that he had two more hands to play another line of harmony, and then the song was suddenly over. The audience applauded and Aoba, flushed, stood up to introduce himself and announce the rest of the show. 

“Hello, everyone, and welcome to the Monocle. I’m Sly Blue, and I’m going to be playing a really special show tonight. This is a tribute to everyone who has contributed to or followed along with the story of Bluejay and Prince Redbird. I’m going to be playing some new songs and telling a new part of the story tonight. But first, I’ll play a couple of older songs that are important to the story. Please enjoy, everybody.”

As he finished speaking, Aoba changed a couple of settings and then started the opening bars to Noiz’s theme, Usagimodoki. It felt great to hear the crowd respond, but it was even more exhilarating to play the song through from start to finish perfectly. Aoba felt like his fingers were flying. 

Next up was an instrumental version of Clear’s song, Kurage no Uta, then Mizuki’s Hospitality. He played Captive Princess, the song which he had written for Sei’s webcomic and never performed live before. Aoba’s DJ experience had given him the ability to accurately gauge the mood for the crowd, and he could tell that tonight, it was golden. There seemed to be more cheering than usual at the end of every song, but maybe it was just Aoba’s friends. 

Finally, Aoba played a more calm song, to usher in the final set of songs: Redbird’s Vision. This was more of a slow dance song, so the crowd calmed down considerably. 

“Some of you may have recognised the song I just played, Redbird’s Vision,” Aoba said into the microphone as he set up his keyboard for the next song. “For those of you who know the story of Bluejay, I’m going to be telling the next part of the story now. You guys are going to be the first people to hear the next part of the story, and this is the first time I’ll be performing my three newest songs on Ensou live. Please enjoy.”

It was a bit of a risk, wasting time telling the story of Bluejay in front of the audience. Still, it had been billed as a special Bluejay performance, so hopefully enough of the guests would be interested. A hush settled over the crowd.

 _As you may know, Bluejay’s friends all got together to try and open the cage that he was imprisoned in. Albatross tried to use his great strength to break down the door, but it wouldn’t move. Swallow called in all his friends to help, and together they bent the bars of the cage, but the opening was too small for Bluejay to fit through. Finally, Mockingbird said to Bluejay, ‘Doesn’t this cage have a key?’ But Bluejay didn’t know._

[ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_hy11fWXzUI)

_Bluejay was beginning to despair, thinking he would never be free. But then, Prince Redbird boldly announced that he would get the cage door open. He immediately flew away and began to search the entire forest for a clue that could help Bluejay. Finally, after days of searching, he found Cockatiel, who nobody had seen in months. Redbird told Cockatiel that if he had any idea how to get Bluejay’s cage open, he had better tell him quickly. Cockatiel admitted that he had the key, but when Redbird asked for it, Cockatiel said that Bluejay was his alone and nobody else could have him._

[ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_hy11fWXzUI)

_So then Prince Redbird challenged Cockatiel to a fight. Cockatiel laughed, saying that Redbird was just a songbird and there was no way he could beat him. But Redbird said he didn’t care what Cockatiel thought, because he was here to help the person that he loved. And that made Cockatiel really mad, because nobody else was allowed to love Bluejay but him. So then he flew at Redbird with his claws shining, and then they fought._

[ ](https://youtu.be/EapxGkiaK60)

Although Aoba still hadn’t published Koujaku’s theme on Ensou and probably never would, he really, really wanted to perform it live. And Koujaku was here now, so it seemed like the perfect time. As the song ended, Aoba tried to quickly find Koujaku at the front of the crowd, but he couldn’t make out his expression. 

Finally, Aoba had arrived at the end of the set. He could sense that the crowd’s mood was good, and his emotions were riding high. Passing one hand over his sweaty bangs and re-adjusting his mask, he took a deep breath and introduced the final song.

“This is the last song I’m going to play tonight, and it’s so new that I haven’t even posted it online yet.

_Finally, Redbird flew back to Bluejay’s cage. He was missing a few feathers and a little bit injured, but he was clutching a small key tightly in his beak. He flew down to Bluejay, put the key in the lock, and opened the door. When the cage door opened and Bluejay looked out into the world, this is what he saw._

The song is called Sky Blue Sky.”

[ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4zcL7LhMftM)

As the song came to its conclusion and the audience applauded, Aoba felt like getting to his feet and cheering too.

-  
MIZUKI

After the show ended, Aoba made his way backstage, thoughts in a giddy whirl, still high on adrenaline. He tossed his costume into his locker, hardly caring what he was doing. When he burst out the backdoor of the Monocle into the cool night air, Koujaku was leading everyone else into the alleyway. 

“You guys!” Aoba called, dashing towards them. Even excited as he was, he noticed that they were all a little sweaty-looking, probably from dancing, and looking as jacked-up as Aoba himself was. Everyone crowded around, giving Aoba compliments, patting him on the back, and creating a general flurry of movement and chatter. When Mizuki slung an arm over Aoba’s shoulders, Koujaku pulled him off and glared at him, which everybody laughed at. Mizuki grinned back, completely unapologetic. 

“Hey, let’s get going, I’m starving.” Mizuki said. 

“Yeah, are we eating or what?” Noiz added. 

“Alright, alright!” Aoba said, laughing, and led the entire group out of the alley and into the indigo district. They walked along quickly and noisily, in a rag-tag bunch, forcing couples and smaller groups to move out of their way as they returned to Glitter. Once there, Aoba and Koujaku led them to an okonomiyaki restaurant. They all piled in and were immediately ushered to a long table with six places set. After some deliberation over the menu, they placed their orders and sat back, waiting for the food to come out. Still a little strung out, Aoba just kinda pointed at whatever was on the menu in front of him and ordered it. 

“The okonomiyaki looks great, but this place’s ambiance is terrible,” Noiz complained, twirling his chopsticks around his fingers. “I didn’t bust my ass making fake invitations for you all to come here just so we could eat somewhere they play music worse than the stuff Aoba writes.”

This was not the first time Noiz had bitched about the invitations, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, so Aoba paid him no heed. 

“You know, I play Aoba’s music at my bar all the time,” Mizuki said. “So maybe you should go there.” 

Aoba looked up in surprise. “Wait, really?” he said. It was one thing to know that his friends liked his music, and another for them to show it so openly. It made him feel really weird. Like… did Bluejay have a fandom? It was so strange to think about, and plus, Aoba felt sorta touched that Mizuki would do something like that for him.

“Yeah, didn’t Koujaku tell you?” Mizuki said, swallowing a mouthful of pancake. “I used to play it just once in a while, but once I knew Sly Blue was you, I decided to play it all the time so I could tell my customers about you if they asked.”

“Remind me to never go to your bar,” Noiz said, though Aoba had a feeling he was just joking around. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to get a tattoo?” Mizuki said, a question which totally confused Noiz and necessitated a lengthy explanation about the Black Needle. Listening to Noiz’s replies to Mizuki was fascinating, because Aoba had no idea how he managed to sound so bored all the time. It was like his default emotion was bored, then sarcastic, then irritated, and then all the other emotions came after. Meanwhile, the waiter brought out the okonomiyaki. Aoba worked his way through his pancake, feeling a contented tiredness setting in. 

“You know something?” Mizuki said abruptly. “Was I the only one who was totally surprised when Aoba and Koujaku started dating?”

Aoba and Koujaku exchanged apprehensive glances. 

“I knew that Ao liked someone, but I didn’t know he was one of our friends,” Clear said. “I don’t mind not knowing. I am very happy for them.” Though Aoba could have guessed that without being told, it was nice to know that Clear wasn’t somehow offended because Aoba hadn’t told him about Koujaku until after the fact.

“I knew he liked someone, but I didn’t care who,” Noiz said.

“Oh, I wasn’t surprised at all,” Sei said blithely. “It was obvious for months. Actually, it was getting pretty annoying to pretend to ignore it.”

Jaw dropping, Aoba stared at his brother in confusion. Koujaku gave an awkward little laugh-cough. 

“Nice, Aoba,” he said. Assuming, as Aoba had, that Sei had read Aoba’s feelings through their emotional bond. But Sei surprised them again. 

“Oh, no, it wasn’t Aoba,” Sei explained. When he looked around and saw how everyone was staring at him in intense interest, he blushed. “I mean… um… Koujaku, you’ve always been a really passionate kind of person…”

Between Koujaku and Sei, Koujaku was definitely blushing harder. 

“So when Aoba went with Mink, I thought I was probably wrong, but then he started dreaming about you,” Sei continued, and Aoba just about died on the spot. 

“Okay, you know what,” he said loudly, as Mizuki smirked, Clear looked startled, and Noiz just straight-up laughed. 

“To answer your question, Mizuki,” Koujaku cut in, still very much pink, “You were the first to know about us officially. So can we drop it now?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Mizuki said, looking abashed. As if to make up for having accidentally caused Sei to embarrass Koujaku and Aoba, he quickly changed the subject by asking another question. “So when are you coming home, Aoba?”

Unfortunately, this was another question Aoba didn’t really want to answer, mostly because he didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I haven’t found any work in town. I mean, there is stuff, but I can’t live on it, or it’s too much and I won’t be able to write music if I do it.”

“What about the job you had before, at Heibon or whatever?” Mizuki said. 

“It was part time,” Aoba explained. Even though Sei said nothing, Aoba felt a pang of disappointment shoot through him. He gritted his teeth. 

“So go work your part time job and make music on the side. If you’re living with your Granny, shouldn’t that be fine?” Noiz said, gesturing with the hand that wasn’t holding the chopsticks. 

“No, because I want to be able to fully support myself whether I live with Granny or not. I’ve been a burden on her for too long,” Aoba said, wishing he didn’t have to explain this at the dinner table. Noiz rolled his eyes and Mizuki looked a little downcast. Even Clear looked concerned. Only Koujaku looked completely calm, probably because he knew he’d get to see Aoba no matter what happened. What a dork. 

“So are you just going to wait for a job to fall from the sky?” Noiz said sarcastically. Aoba wanted to kick him under the table, but then he remembered the time when Noiz had sarcastically but gently prodded Aoba to confess to Koujaku before it was too late – and Noiz had been right. Dammit. Aoba sighed. 

“No, I’m going to go see Granny at the end of six months whether I find something in Midorijima or not. But I’m not moving back to town until I find a job, so I’ll work here at the Monocle until I find one or until I get fired,” Aoba said firmly. Noiz nodded, looking thoughtful, which was a little strange. The conversation turned to stories of how cool Tae-san was, then Aoba and Sei’s childhood twin shenanigans. It felt good to be nostalgic, especially with Koujaku and Mizuki there. As for Clear and Noiz, they just lapped it up, making curious and sarcastic comments, respectively. Before Aoba knew it, he was looking down at an empty plate. And though he didn’t recall truly tasting anything he had eaten, his body was tired and his stomach was full, and things were looking pretty good for him. 

 

-  
NOIZ

After dinner, Aoba and his friends went back to his apartment in Glitter, plopped down on the sofas, and talked for about two hours. Everyone was getting on better than Aoba could have hoped, considering that Sei and Clear were shy, half of them had never met in person before, and Noiz appeared to be a delinquent. Fortunately, Mizuki had always been very sociable, Clear’s enthusiasm was putting Sei at ease, and Noiz seemed to be purposefully ignoring Koujaku so that explained why no one was fighting yet. 

As the clock ticked on towards midnight, Noiz stood. 

“I’m leaving. Aoba, come home with me,” Noiz said, sounding bored. Aoba looked at him suspiciously, wondering what he could possibly be planning, and why he sounded so sketchy about it. 

“You mean… walk you back to your apartment?” Aoba clarified. Noiz shrugged. 

“Yeah, sure. Come on, your wife can take care of everyone else for now,” he said, gesturing at Koujaku.

When Aoba hesitated, Noiz sighed. “I want to talk to you, so come on. You’ll regret it if you don’t. Trust me.”

Right… Aoba doubted he would regret it, but since Noiz had come all the way from Germany for this, it would be rude not to pay attention to him. Aoba looked over at Koujaku, who was scowling ferociously at Noiz, and decided to not even start that conversation. 

“See you in a sec, guys,” Aoba called to Koujaku, Mizuki, Clear, and Sei. They all looked a little surprised, and Koujaku pissed, but Aoba ignored them and hurried to put his boots on. 

“You know, we could just hang out tomorrow,” Aoba said as they walked out the door. “I’m not going anywhere.” Even though the inside of Aoba’s apartment was dark and he felt like it was night, Platinum Jail was as bright as ever. It was jarring, but Aoba was used to it by now.

“Yeah, but I wanted to talk to you now,” Noiz said, as if his desires were somehow supposed to be the be-all and end-all of Aoba’s decision-making process. [What Aoba had thought earlier was right:] Noiz was even harder to deal with in person than he was to deal with over the internet. Still, Noiz was a good friend, so Aoba would just roll his eyes and get on with it. 

“About what?” Aoba said when Noiz didn’t offer any explanation. 

“You and your continuing sob story,” Noiz said matter-of-factly. Aoba clenched his fists, prepared for Noiz to start insulting him or something. It was always hard to tell what to expect with Noiz when his voice sounded so disinterested all the time.

But instead, Noiz said, “So you want a better-paying job, huh?”

“I definitely never said that,” Aoba said, wondering how Noiz could have translated “I want to leave Platinum Jail” to “I want to be paid better.”

“And not if it means moving back to the mainland, I don’t,” Aoba added. 

“Whatever,” Noiz said dismissively. “It so turns out that I know a guy who can help you.” The bright white lights of Glitter gleamed on Noiz’s piercings as he grinned, looking way too pleased with himself. 

“You know someone on Midorijima who wants to hire a musician?” Aoba said, a little confused. Noiz rolled his eyes, returning to his default holier-than-thou countenance. 

“I’ll give you the job details in a minute, but it’s a working-from-home kind of gig,” Noiz said. “Tell me something. When I oh-so-graciously told you my real name way back when, did you bother to look me up? Do you have the faintest clue who I actually am?”

“Why would I do that?” Aoba said, more confused than ever now. What did Noiz’s name have to do with him working from home? He remembered being surprised when Noiz had just announced his name over the phone at Heibon, and belatedly realised that perhaps it had been a hint of some kind. Well, too bad for Noiz that Aoba had no interest in playing mind games with him. 

“Figures,” Noiz complained. “Okay, you know what Rhyme is, right?”

“Yeah, it’s a really popular virtual reality game. And you’re a big name Rhyme player, right?” Aoba said, trying to remember all the stuff Noiz had ever said about Rhyme tournaments. He knew you were supposed to use your Allmate to play, and Noiz used a bunch of Usagimodoki. Was that relevant in any way to this conversation?

“A big name Rhyme player,” Noiz scoffed, shaking his head theatrically. “I fucking invented it.”

“Invented what?” Aoba said. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks. “Wait – Rhyme? Are you saying you invented Rhyme? That’s impossible. You’re just a kid!”

Noiz snorted, but a smile was playing around his lips. He was obviously enjoying this, the conceited little bastard. “Just because some people haven’t accomplished anything in the 20-some years they’ve been on this earth, doesn’t mean people with real talent have to sit on their asses. You can go on our website right now if you don’t believe me.”

Without even waiting for him to finish the sentence, Aoba whipped out his Coil and went to Rhyme’s homepage. It took him a moment to find the Japanese language button, but then he scrolled down to the bottom of the page and found the name of the company that made the game: Moon Rabbit. When he clicked on it, it took him to an “About us” page, with different options in the sidebar for “About the company”, “People”, and “Contact us”. Aoba went straight to the “People” option, and there, at the top of the list, was a picture of Noiz. A Noiz without his piercings or his ridiculous outfit, wearing a suit and looking uncharacteristically professional, but Noiz nonetheless. The text next to the picture said that Noiz’s real name was Wilhelm and that he had invented Rhyme four years ago at the age of fourteen, developed it for two years, and released it to the public at the tender age of sixteen. Aoba went back and forth between the official Rhyme page and the “People” page just to make sure that there wasn’t some kind of trickery going on here. He absolutely could not believe it. Noiz, his rich German internet friend Noiz, lover of rabbits and leaver of overly salty comments, creator and owner of a wildly successful video game company?

Yeah, now that Aoba thought about it, it was all too horribly possible. 

When he looked up from his Coil, he saw Noiz wearing the smuggest expression he’d ever seen anyone wear in his entire life. Aoba hated him for it a little, but then again, if he were as rich as Noiz probably was, he’d surely look that smug about it too. 

“Good for you,” Aoba said grumpily, closing out the web page and taking off in the direction of the green district again. 

Easily catching up to him, Noiz said, “Hey, now, is that any way to treat your future boss?”

“You want to hire me?” Aoba said, suddenly understanding why Noiz had chosen to tell him about Rhyme at this particular moment. “To write music for Rhyme?”

“Not for Rhyme, we already got another guy to do the music for it. I’m working on a couple of new projects now, and I want you to make music for those. Because I’m a nice guy, I’ll consider promoting your Bluejay stuff if you pay me some minimal ad revenue.”

Aoba opened his mouth to protest that he didn’t have the regular income to pay for anything like that, but Noiz held up his hand. 

“I didn’t help you get famous just so I could steal all your money. Just trust me, and we can work out the details later,” Noiz said impatiently. “Are you interested or not?”

Aoba thought about it for a moment, and Noiz took the opportunity to pop into a candy store they were passing. While he was inside, Aoba stood on the sidewalk and tried to absorb Noiz’s offer – and the fact that Noiz had invented Rhyme. No wonder he had enough money to pay for a ticket to Platinum Jail. 

Well, one thing Noiz had said was true – Noiz had unquestionably helped Aoba get famous. Without Noiz, Aoba wouldn’t have invented Bluejay, who was clearly a big part of Aoba’s success. Noiz had also promoted Aoba’s first big song and helped Aoba start selling merch. Not to mention helping Aoba move out of Mink’s so he could create music more freely, as well as sending Koujaku to save Aoba’s ass when Mink showed back up again. Aoba trusted Noiz implicitly. There were a million different reasons to take Noiz up on his offer, but one of the biggest ones in Aoba’s mind was that Aoba owed him. If Noiz wanted Aoba to make music for him, who was Aoba to say no?

As Noiz came out of the bakery, now carrying a massive bag of assorted candies, Aoba turned to him and said, “Okay, I’ll do it.”

To Aoba’s surprise, Noiz looked surprised at what he had said. “Wait, really?” he said. “Because I thought you were gonna complain about it more. Want a lollypop?”

“No thanks,” Aoba said, since he was still full from dinner. 

“No, here, take it,” he said, shoving the lollypop into Aoba’s hand and unwrapping another for himself. Aoba looked at the yellow candy he had been given and got the strangest sense of déjà vu. 

Rolling the stick of his lollypop around with his tongue, Noiz said, “So we can discuss the terms later and then I’ll have a contract written up. Welcome to Moon Rabbit.”

Everything was happening so fast, Aoba felt like his head was spinning. “Wait a minute, what about the job I’m in now? I can’t just quit. The contract doesn’t expire for another six months,” he said, thinking that his manager would not be pleased about this turn of events. How would Aoba handle him?

“So you have to work at the Monocle for another six months,” Noiz said, shrugging. It was then that they finally reached the green district, and the change in colour suddenly made Noiz look much more in his element, though Aoba couldn’t figure out why. “Don’t worry about it. These projects are still in development, like I said. I’ll want you to start making some demos, but nothing serious. You have time for that, right?”

In all honesty, Aoba absolutely had time to make more demos. He also trusted Noiz to take care of the financial/formal side of things, but there was something else that was bothering him a little… and would bother him forever if he didn’t bring it up before the contract was signed. 

“Noiz… what makes you think I’ll be able to make the kind of music you’re looking for, for these games?” Aoba said, looking away from him. It wasn’t that he doubted his ability to make music, it was just… why him? Surely there were a lot more good musicians out there who Noiz could chose to use instead. And if Aoba couldn’t fit Noiz’s requirements somehow, that might cause a problem with their friendship, which Aoba was loathe to lose in any way.

“Don’t insult my intelligence,” Noiz retorted promptly. “Do you have any idea how long I spent looking through that hellsite, Ensou, for any kind of musician who could play his way out of a paper bag? You are literally the only person who can do this job.” Noiz levelled Aoba with a disapproving glare. “So don’t even try backing out of it just because of your pathetic self-esteem issues.”

“I don’t have self-esteem issues,” Aoba said automatically, before his brain caught up with what Noiz had said. “Wait, you went on Ensou just so you could find a… an up-and-coming musician? An indie musician? Isn’t there an easier way to do that?”

Noiz’s expression closed down. He glanced at Aoba, who looked back curiously. It seemed like Noiz was struggling with himself over how much to explain, which only made Aoba more curious than ever. Still, he waited patiently as Noiz unwrapped and chewed his way through a toffee, probably as a stalling tactic.

“Okay, so I had a lot of reasons to do it like that,” Noiz started. “First of all, it makes good business sense if you’re the only person with a certain brand, if you have something special that no one else has got. And now I’ve got you before anyone else could find you, so people are always gonna remember you not just as the guy with the gay birds but as the guy who wrote music for Moon Rabbit. And they’re going to remember my games not just as Moon Rabbit games but as games that have music in them from the gay bird guy. So that’s one reason.”

“I am not the gay bird guy,” Aoba said, thinking how devious Noiz’s plan was and wondering if he should be mad or feel tricked. Well… not really. Maybe Noiz had been manipulating Aoba for his own benefit, but it felt more like they were friends. So Aoba was going to trust his gut. 

“Yeah, you are,” Noiz said patronisingly. “But whatever, at least you’re memorable. The second reason I used Ensou is that I don’t have to pay ridiculous sums of money to hire a new artist, like I would for some other famous guy. I don’t have to pay your record label or your agent because you don’t have them.”

Nodding, Aoba waited for Noiz to continue. 

“And the third reason…” Noiz started, and stopped. As they turned a corner, the lights flashed green, yellow, and black on Noiz’s face. “I guess, since my company grew out of basically nothing to begin with, I thought it would be cool to have a musician who was like that too. Or like, to help somebody get famous. So yeah. That’s all the reasons.”

If Aoba was reading Noiz right, he was saying that he had wanted to help someone achieve their dreams of stardom, basically. Which was the last thing Aoba had ever expected him to say, because it was both uncharacteristically nice and weirdly optimistic of him. Aoba felt unexpectedly touched, and didn’t really know what to say. 

Finally, he said, “Thanks, Noiz.”

Noiz stopped walking, and Aoba looked up and realised they were in front of a tall (green) apartment building. Was this where Noiz was staying? It seemed like they had walked a fairly long distance. Noiz’s giant bag of candy, however, wasn’t noticeably reduced at all.

“Yeah, well, you owe me,” Noiz said, although Aoba couldn’t tell if he was being serious. 

“Sure, whatever,” Aoba said, since it was late and he didn’t really want to get into an argument about it. 

“The correct response is, ‘Yes, Noiz, I know,’ to which I graciously respond, ‘You’re welcome,’” Noiz said. “Also, this is my apartment–” so Aoba’s assumption had been correct “–so I’ll just be going now. I’ll message you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, talk to you tomorrow,” Aoba agreed as Noiz scanned his Coil and the front door opened. Giving a sarcastic salute, Noiz disappeared into the building, leaving Aoba standing on the sidewalk with his head still spinning. 

As the doors closed behind Noiz, Aoba’s Coil buzzed. 

**Kansuzume:** Remind me who you wanted in the guest bedroom. Sei and Clear, right?  
**Kansuzume:** Are you going to be home soon?

Because he knew that Koujaku knew darn well that Sei and Clear were supposed to be sharing the guest bedroom, Aoba surmised that Koujaku was worried about him and wanted an excuse to check up on him. Maybe he thought Noiz would do something weird. Aoba quickly sent off a reply:

 **SlyBlue:** I’m on my way home now and yes it was Sei and Clear upstairs and Mizuki on the couch in the living room.  
**Kansuzume:** Thanks. See you soon.

Aoba smiled at his Coil, closed the messaging app, and started off back the way he had come. Although he had never walked into the green district before, Platinum Jail had a pretty straightforward layout, and it was easy to retrace his steps. Aoba walked along in a world bathed in green, thinking about Noiz’s proposal and what it might mean for the days to come.

 

-  
CLEAR

When Aoba arrived back at his apartment in Glitter, he found Mizuki and Koujaku sitting on one of the couches in the living room, the other one made up into a sofa-bed. The table which normally sat between them had been moved off to the side. Both Koujaku and Mizuki looked up when Aoba came in, Mizuki’s expression neutral and Koujaku’s pleased and relieved. 

“Okaeri,” Koujaku said. “Sei and Clear already went upstairs.”

Quickly checking his Coil, Aoba saw that it was past midnight, and he knew that Clear would have had to get up early to catch the Midorijima ferry. Maybe not as early as the last time, but still early enough that he’d be tired by now. Aoba felt a little bad that he hadn’t been around to wish them goodnight, but then again, it was pretty much all Noiz’s fault…

“How are you doing, Mizuki?” Aoba said, trying to be a good host. He set his shoes down by the door, then came and sat on the edge of the sofabed, facing Koujaku and Mizuki.

“I’m fine, but man, you look exhausted,” Mizuki said. Truth be told, he was right. Performing always took a lot out of Aoba, and the socialising afterwards, plus the walk to and from Noiz’s apartment, hadn’t really helped. 

“Why don’t you go upstairs and get some rest?” Koujaku suggested. “I’ll come up soon too.” “Well…” Aoba said, hesitating. He felt like it would be rude to ditch his guests, since Koujaku didn’t technically live here. Still, the thought of his comfortable bed was a pretty tempting one. 

“Go on,” Mizuki said kindly, pointing at the staircase. “I’ll still be here tomorrow, right?”

“You guys,” Aoba started, but they weren’t having any of it. 

“Don’t make me carry you up the stairs again,” Koujaku said, and Aoba instantly flushed red. “Screw you,” he said, getting up and heading for the staircase. “If that’s how it’s going to be, I’m leaving. And,” he said, turning around and pointing an accusing figure at Koujaku, “Don’t you fucking dare explain that to Mizuki.”

“Good night,” Mizuki said, all innocently. Koujaku was trying to keep a straight face, but Aoba knew Koujaku had just totally played him. He said goodnight to Mizuki, gave Koujaku one last glare, and headed to the second floor. On the landing, he looked down over the balcony and saw that Koujaku and Mizuki were talking to each other again. Hopefully Koujaku would come join him soon – so he could reprimand him in private. 

Outside of Clear and Sei’s door, Aoba paused, wondering if he should knock and see how they were doing, or if they were already asleep. They had seemed so happy together today. With a pang, Aoba wondered if Sei would one day go live at Clear’s house on the mainland – but maybe he was getting ahead of himself. 

From what Aoba had seen tonight, both Clear and Sei had had a good time at the concert and afterwards. Remembering what Clear had said on the beach, about never having had any real friends before, Aoba could understand why Clear had looked so blissfully happy at dinner, even when nothing interesting was being said. It must be a dream come true for Clear to meet Mizuki, Noiz, Koujaku, and Sei in real life for the first time. It made Aoba glad to know that he had been able to help Clear by providing an excuse for all of them to come together. 

But he had also noticed that it was when Clear looked at Sei that he had the most undisguised happiness on his gentle face. And sometimes when Sei caught Clear’s eye, Aoba felt a little echoing pulse of Sei’s nerves. Of course, it was hard to tell now since the connection between them had been disrupted for so long, but if Aoba strained really hard, he could feel… that right now, Sei seemed to be pretty content. 

Aoba’s thoughts were interrupted as he caught a faint sound from inside Clear and Sei’s room. It seemed the two of them were talking, so they must be still awake. He was about to knock on their door, when he heard…

Clear was singing Sei to sleep. 

That was the most disgustingly intimate thing Aoba had ever overheard in his entire life. Still, he was considerate enough to walk quietly away from their room rather than turning on his heel and getting the heck out of there as quickly as possible. 

It seemed that Clear and Sei, too, were finding their own happiness. Aoba wished them well, feeling that the two of them were pretty much perfectly suited to each other. But he felt like overhearing their private moments about as much as he felt like having Clear cry on his shoulder again. So he would talk to them tomorrow instead.

 

-  
REN

Once inside his room, Aoba flopped down on his back on the bed. Grabbing his t-shirt from under the pillow, then feeling around with one hand in the chest of drawers for a clean pair of boxers, he changed into sleepwear and then flopped back down again. He still had to brush his hair, but he was so tired that he didn’t even want to think about it, and besides he could just feel how tangled it was. 

In looking for his hairbrush, his eye fell on Ren, who was in sleep mode by the window next to Beni. It would be nice to have Ren’s company right now. Dragging himself upright for a second time, Aoba woke Ren up and put him on the bed, then found his hairbrush on the ground where it had fallen from the bedside table. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Aoba tried brushing his hair, realised that it was a lost cause, and started detangling it with his fingers instead. 

Sidling up beside him, Ren gently put one paw onto Aoba’s thigh. Aoba looked down at him, smiling tiredly. 

“Hey, Ren,” he said. 

“Good evening, Aoba. You appear to be quite tired,” Ren said, withdrawing his paw and sitting down beside him. “How was the concert?”

Aoba couldn’t help but grin. “It was amazing. And everyone really liked it.” Briefly, he gave Ren a rundown of the day’s events, starting with Sei’s arrival and ending with the conversation after dinner. By the time he was done, his hair was detangled satisfactorily to the point where he could start brushing it again. 

“I’m happy for you, Aoba,” Ren said. For some reason, Aoba had a brief flashback to another conversation he’d had with Ren late at night – a conversation in Mink’s living room, one in which Ren had basically said that he would stay with Aoba no matter what, even if it meant watching him suffer for the rest of his life. Thinking about it made Aoba’s heart ache momentarily at the thought of what he and Ren might have become.

“Noiz offered me a job,” Aoba said impulsively. Raising his head, Ren looked up at Aoba curiously. 

“To make music? For what purpose?” he asked. 

“He invented Rhyme,” Aoba said, still hardly able to believe it. “And he wants me to make music for some new games of his. Isn’t that crazy?”

After thinking about it for a moment, Ren said, “Did you accept?” He looked at Aoba steadily, not passing jugement one way or the other, as Aoba replied. 

“Yeah, I did,” Aoba said. “Ren… you know what this means?”

“Please enlighten me,” Ren said, cocking his head to one side. 

“It means we can go home,” Aoba said. “Noiz said I can work from home, so we can go back to Midorijima, real Midorijima, the town, I mean. I… I can see Granny again.”

At this, Ren visibly perked up his ears. Not that Aoba noticed, since he was purposefully concentrating on rebrushing the same handful of hair six times so he wouldn’t have to look at Ren. 

“That’s wonderful news,” Ren said cautiously. “Yet you appear to be somewhat distracted. Are you concerned that Tae-san will be too angry with you to see you?”

Sighing, Aoba put the brush on the bedside table and tiredly rubbed his eyes with one hand. Seeing Sei today had forced him to come to terms with something that he probably should have admitted to himself already. How to explain to Ren? 

“Granny… is probably not as mad at me as I think she is,” Aoba started. “I mean, look how happy Sei was to see me, even though he should’ve slapped me across the face the moment he saw me. But he acted like nothing even happened.”

Ren waited patiently as Aoba chewed his bottom lip and forced himself to continue. “That’s the thing. I think I expect her to be angrier than she is because I want her to be mad at me, because I feel like I deserve it. I still feel bad for what I did, and I don’t just mean the Mink thing. I mean acting like a piece of shit to her and Sei when I was a teenager and bringing shame on our family. Everybody knows I was practically a criminal for like three years. But Granny was never mad about that stuff. Honestly, I’m confused that she wasn’t happy when I left to live with Mink and she didn’t have to deal with me anymore. But I guess I have to get over thoughts like that, don’t I? How else am I going to make myself go home?”

As he spoke, Aoba’s distress started rising. As if sensing this, Ren got up and tried to clamber over Aoba’s leg and onto his lap. Instead, Aoba scooped him up and touched their foreheads together, a guesture which instantly calmed him down. Aoba sighed again, this time in relief. 

“Aoba,” Ren said quietly. “It doesn’t matter what you did in the past. Your family will always be your family, and I can sense that they care for you very much. Just as I do.”

Aoba smiled, touched by Ren’s words. “I know,” Aoba admitted, putting Ren back down in his lap. “It – it’s just hard, sometimes.”

“I forsee a 99% chance that you’ll feel completely better in the morning,” Ren said solemnly. Giving him a brief smile, Aoba reached into the bedside table to get a hair tie, now that the worst part of the conversation was done.

“Thanks Ren,” he said, starting to braid his hair for the night. “I know you’re probably right.”

Looking a little smug about that one, Ren curled up in Aoba’s lap and laid his little head on Aoba’s leg. It was so adorable, Aoba wished he had an extra hand so he could pet Ren and braid his hair at the same time. 

Just then, Aoba heard footsteps outside in the hallway – quiet ones, to be sure, but footsteps nonetheless. He surmised that Koujaku had just come up the stairs, and was a little surprised that Koujaku’s conversation with Mizuki had ended already. 

As Aoba was tying off the end of his braid, the door to their room quietly opened and Koujaku appeared, looking a little annoyed. When he saw Aoba, his expression changed to one of surprise.

“You’re still up?” he said, quietly so as not to disturb their presumably sleeping neighbours. “Is something wrong?”

“No, but what about you? You look kinda mad,” Aoba said, picking Ren up from his lap and putting him down again on Koujaku’s pillow. Koujaku unpinned his hair and started taking off his accessories, the first things he always did when getting ready for bed. 

“Yeah, Mizuki was being a brat,” Koujaku said, starting to undo the bandages that wrapped around his left fore-arm. Meanwhile, Aoba got under the covers, pulled Ren close to him, and watched Koujaku pace around the room from that comfortable position. 

“What do you mean?” Aoba said. 

“Oh, he – ugh,” Koujaku said, shaking his head. His face was turning a little pink. “He thinks that because he’s been bisexual for longer than me, I need him to give me sex tips. I’ve slept with more people than he has – sorry, Aoba – and you have a lot of experience with guys, so between the two of us, I think we’re doing just fine.”

Aoba couldn’t help but laugh. Koujaku, who was in the middle of angrily throwing the bandages into the closet, turned to Aoba with a changrined expression. 

“Wait – you’re not – Aoba?” 

“You know Mizuki was probably just trying to be nice,” Aoba said, still highly amused. “Don’t worry about it. Hurry up and come sleep.”

Ren cracked open an eye. “If you plan to test any of Mizuki’s advice tonight, please put me in sleep mode first,” he said.

“No,” Koujaku replied way too quickly. He shoved the remaining bandages into the cupboard and started undoing his obi. Aoba watched as Koujaku put the obi and kimono on a hanger, put away his jeans, and started on the bandages that wrapped around his stomach. Watching Koujaku undress did make it kinda tempting to just reach out and touch all that beautiful bare skin, but even if there weren’t guests next door to possibly overhear them, Aoba was still pretty darn tired. So instead, he lay comfortably, enjoying the view. 

Finally, Koujaku, too, put on a clean pair of boxers and an old shirt. 

“I’ll be back in a second,” Koujaku said, heading for the door. Aoba knew he had to go wash the hair gel out of his bangs and probably brush his teeth, too. So he waited patiently for Koujaku to return, stroking Ren with one hand. 

“Are you going to tell Koujaku that Noiz offered you a job?” Ren said quietly, startling Aoba out of his reverie. 

“Yeah, probably,” Aoba said sleepily. “I should probably write a letter for Granny and give it to Sei to take home, don’t you think?”

“That sounds like a very fair plan to me,” Ren said, nudging Aoba’s cheek with his nose. They lay together in silence until Koujaku came back into the bedroom. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Koujaku said, switching off the lights. Aoba heard his footsteps circle around to the other side of the bed, then felt the matress dip down as Koujaku sat. 

“You know Aoba, I was thinking about something earlier,” Koujaku said, as Aoba felt him scooting closer. “Isn’t it strange how I had all these chances to find out you were Bluejay and you had all these chances to find out I was Kansuzume, but we both kept missing each other?”

That was definitely more introspection than Aoba needed in his life at that moment in time. 

“I guess so,” Aoba said, yawning. “Not really. I mean, I thought you were straight and you didn’t know I was famous. That’s pretty normal, right?”

There was silence in the dark as Koujaku thought about it for a moment. Then Aoba felt Koujaku reach out and oh-so-gently stroke his hair. 

“However it happened, I’m glad we’re together now,” Koujaku said. 

“Mm, me too,” Aoba agreed. A moment later, Koujaku pulled away his hand. Still, Aoba felt warm. This day had been perfection down to the very last minute. 

With Ren in his arms and Koujaku beside him, Aoba finally drifted off into a deep and peaceful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for this garbage chapter. The document is so long that the spellcheck turned itself off. So there is a high chance this chapter contains massive amounts of typos. Also, this chapter alone is 10,500+ words long. It is the single longest chapter in this fic. "Common Route"/chapter one is only 6,400 words long. I thought my motivation was low before. I had no clue. No fucking clue. 
> 
> Birds Together = Game soundtrack #8  
> Taiji = Game soundtrack #5  
> Koujaku = Koujaku from the anime OST  
> Sky Blue Sky = Dramatical Murder from the anime OST  
> Note: there is another song called Taiji on the anime OST. It's quite good, but I wanted to make sure I used enough songs from the game soundtrack in this fic, because that was my original source of inspiration.
> 
> indelibleIllustrator is Sei and yes, he is Homestuck trash. Sei’s typing quirk is just like Aoba’s but with less capitalisation and apostrophes.
> 
> I forgot to mention this earlier, but since Clear isn’t a robot anymore, he’s also a normal height. Like, the same height as Aoba. So’s Sei, for obvious reasons. Noiz hasn’t finished growing yet, because he’s only like 18. This makes Koujaku the tallest person in the room. Note that this version of Noiz has fewer piercings. He has two on his right eyebrow, a tongue piercing, like 5 earrings per ear, two piercings under his bottom lip, one on each side, and that’s it for his face.
> 
> The whole concert sequence is unrealistic as fuck, but I don’t care. If I ever come back and edit this fic, I will completely rewrite this chapter. (Except maybe the Noiz and Koujaku segments... those are alright.)
> 
> Comments always welcome.


	33. The Letter that Aoba Sent Home With Sei

Mizuki, Sei, and Clear went home two days later. Koujaku left two days after that, and Aoba was stuck with Noiz for a full three days more. On the day that Mizuki, Sei, and Clear left, Aoba sat down, wrote this note, and gave it to Sei, who promised faithfully that it would be read first and only by Granny.  
\---

_Dear Granny,_

_I am writing to let you know that I found a job that pays well and which I can do from home, so I will soon be leaving Platinum Jail and returning to Midorijima. I would very much like to return to your house, though I understand if you don’t want to see me after all the trouble I’ve caused. Please tell Sei if it’s okay for me to come visit._

_Sincerely,_   
_Aoba_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The struggle is real.


	34. Clearest Blue

Aoba walked through the streets of Midorijima alone, feeling like his bones had been liquefied and his stomach filled with helium. His head, too, felt light enough to float away. None of the scenery around him registered – not the cars, not the people, not the familiar stores and houses. When at a crosswalk he stepped out into the street against the light and nearly got hit by a turning car, he had nearly forgotten about it five second later. 

He was going home. 

All of his things were temporarily stored at Koujaku’s apartment. There was room there for the both of them, but if Granny wouldn’t take him back, he would stay true to his original plan and find his own apartment to live in. He had tried looking for one already, but just reading the listings set his stomach churning in acid. Caught between the terrible prospect of living alone and the terrible prospect of Granny’s wrath, he had forced himself to message Sei and ask when would be a good time to come over. 

And now, the streets were changing from familiar to remembered. A mailbox, a cherry tree, a flowerbed that Aoba knew. And here, the fenced-in garden in front of his house. Numbly, Aoba unlatched the gate and walked towards the door. 

At the entrance, Aoba raised his hand and knocked twice, hardly daring to be too loud in case things went wrong and the neighbours should somehow overhear, see, and ask Granny about this tomorrow. He waited five long seconds, ten.

Then, the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Aoba held his hands stiffly at his sides but forced himself to stay there, waiting. Then the door opened, and it was Granny’s angry face that he saw inside.

“Okaeri,” Tae-san said – words that Aoba never thought he’d hear out of her mouth again. Her tone was cranky, but Aoba knew that she would never have said “okaeri” if she didn’t intend to try and forgive him. Thank god. Suddenly he could think again, even though his chest still felt tight.

“Tadaima,” Aoba responded shakily, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. Granny waited as if she expected him to take off his shoes and come inside, but Aoba couldn’t wait. Without even stepping into the hallway, he launched into his apology. He’d spent weeks thinking about this moment, and the words tumbled from his mouth in an uncontrollable flow. 

“Granny, I’m sorry. I should never have left without listening to your advice. You were right all along. I should have known better. I caused everyone so much touble, you and Sei and Koujaku and just everyone. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, so –”

Then Granny cut Aoba off by pulling him into a hug. 

“You stupid idiot,” she said in his ear, her voice wavering a little. Hot tears sprang to Aoba’s eyes, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Never in a million years had he imagined this – Granny just hugging him like she had missed him, like he deserved it. Squeezing his eyes shut, Aoba blinked back tears as hard as he could. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, sniffed, clutched at the back of her cotton housedress. Granny smacked him on the back of the head. 

“You’re making my ears bleed,” she said, tone irritated but voice still a little rough. “If I wanted to hear someone say ‘sorry’ over and over, I could just talk to your brother. Now take your shoes off, why don’t you? It’s like I never taught you any manners.”

“Of course, sor – uh, right away,” Aoba said, letting her go and tugging off his boots, swallowing as hard as he could. When he thought she wasn’t looking, he wiped his eyes surreptitiously on his sleeve – and Granny did the same. Seeing his shoes lined up by the door next to Sei’s almost made Aoba start crying all over again, but he did his best to pull himself together as Granny beckoned him into the kitchen. 

Inside, the room was warm and full of the smell of good food – clearly, Granny and Sei had been preparing for Aoba’s arrival. Sei was standing at the counter looking nervous and minding the rice, while Cerise played with an orange peel. When Sei saw Aoba, his face lit up with joy, like maybe even he hadn’t expected Granny to just let Aoba in. Aoba timidly smiled back even as Sei turned away to hide his expression. Then Cerise looked up to see what was going on, and Aoba knew he was in trouble. 

“Oh my god!” Cerise squealed, her eyes going round as saucers. “It’s Aoba!” 

Launching herself off the countertop, she landed on the kitchen table, scurried across it, and jumped onto Aoba’s shirt. Climbing up his chest, little feet tickling and making Aoba laugh uncontrollably, she reached his shoulder brushed his neck with her whiskers as she gasped in happiness again. 

“Hey, hey,” Aoba laughed, and tried to catch her in his hands. Finally he was able to lift her up in front of his face to see her properly. 

“You’re back, you’re back,” Cerise chattered excitedly, turning around in circles in his palms. Aoba had to bite his lips to keep from laughing again, though fortunately his hands weren’t as ticklish as his chest. Meanwhile, Sei hovered helplessly in the background, looking simultaneously amused and chagrined. Aoba shot him a mock-annoyed look that said “Control your Allmate!” but both of them knew he wasn’t really serious. 

“Sit down and stop making a fuss,” Granny ordered, pulling out a chair for Aoba. Then she elbowed Sei aside from the stove and started fussing over whatever was on it. 

Sitting down at the table, Sei said, “So where is Ren?”

“In my bag,” Aoba said, slowly sinking down into his chair while still holding Cerise in front of him. Seeing that Aoba’s eyes were glued to Cerise for fear she would make another mad dive for his shirt, Sei reached over and picked her up by the scruff of the neck. 

“Hey,” Cerise whined, twisting around to look at Aoba as Sei deposited her into the front pocket of his shirt. Aoba pulled Ren out of his bag, set him on the table, and patted his forehead to wake him up. There was no way in hell Aoba would have left Ren behind for this reunion. If it had gone well, Aoba knew everyone would want to see him. If it had gone badly, Aoba himself would have needed Ren’s company at his side. 

Ren woke up, took in the kitchen, and squeezed his eyes shut in happiness, smiling a little doggy smile.

“Ren!” Cerise exclaimed, trying to get out from under Sei’s hand and escape from his pocket. 

“Good to see you, Ren,” Granny said, ladling miso soup into bowls. As she set down one bowl in front of Sei and one in front of Aoba, he marvelled that she hadn’t said “No Allmates at the table.” She must be in an even better mood than she was letting on. As for Aoba himself, he had calmed down a lot and was just marvelling at how strangely familiar this all felt.

“It is wonderful to see you as well, Tae-san, Sei-kun,” Ren said. His normal grace and dignity was even more exaggerated beside Cerise’s hyperactive enthusiasm. Her little nose was practically vibrating in her excitement, making all her whiskers quiver. 

“Cerise-chan, you seem to be in good working order,” Ren said fondly.

“The sensors in my whiskers are broken,” Cerise announced matter-of-factly. “But you’ll fix them, right, Aoba?”

“Oh… those are specialised parts,” Aoba said, and Sei gave an apologetic grin. Of course, Aoba would fix Cerise for Sei. But since he wasn’t working at the junk shop anymore, getting the parts would be a problem. But who knew? Maybe Haga-san would still be willing to give him a discount. 

“Dinner is about to start,” Granny said, before Aoba could voice any of this. “Allmates on the counter, please.”

“Aww,” Cerise whined, but when Sei set her and Ren on the counter, she immediately ran to Ren and hid under his legs. Aoba pictured Beni there beside them, thought how cute it would be, then about going home to Beni and Koujaku that evening, then shook himself and turned his attention to the miso soup. 

“Itadakimasu,” Sei and Aoba said in unison, just like they used to. Both of them grinned at each other, and Aoba’s heart felt warm. It felt like he was finally getting back into synch with Sei, like a part of him had woken up and was coming back to life. Like he was about to be whole again, or at the very least, normal. 

“Very funny,” Granny said dryly, like they had done it on purpose or something. There was a moment of silence – well, of slurping – as all three of them tasted the soup. As usual, it had the perfect amount of salt, and the tofu cubes were perfectly cooked. Aoba was tempted to just inhale it, but at the same time, he wanted it to last. 

“So where are all your things?” Granny said. “Did you leave them all with Mink? I guess you won’t have much to move back in here.”

 _To move back in?_ Aoba’s heart leapt with joy. Was Granny suggesting that Aoba move back into the house without him even having to ask? Aoba’s chest felt like it was going to burst with happiness just at the thought of it. 

“No, my stuff is at Koujaku’s apartment,” Aoba said. “I wasn’t sure… when it would be convenient for me to bring it here.”

Of course, he hadn’t been sure he’d be allowed to bring it back at all, but he was, and he could hardly believe it. 

“Koujaku, huh?” Granny said schrewdly. Wondering if Sei had told her they were dating, Aoba tried to read her expression but failed. He knew she wouldn’t care that Koujaku was a man, especially because she loved Koujaku like a third son already – but he didn’t want her to think that he was preparing to run off and leave the family for a man again. 

“Yeah, Koujaku,” Aoba replied slowly, trying to figure out how to broach the subject and explain.

“Wait, you’re living with him?” Sei said, surprised and looking a little disappointed. 

“Wait, no, I never said that,” Aoba said through a mouthful of tofu. Swallowing quickly, he hastened to say, “I mean, I am dating him. But I want to live here. If I can, please, Granny.”

Sei looked relieved, and Granny looked irritated. “Why are you asking me permission to live in your own house?” Granny said, feigning mock confusion. Aoba rolled his eyes, and just like that the tension melted away. 

“As for you going out with Koujaku, I already knew that,” Granny said. “Sei-chan told me. He is the good twin, after all.”

“Granny, I’m not – it’s not –” Sei said, flustered. 

“It’s okay, I already knew that,” Aoba said easily. If Granny wanted to take pretend shots at him, that was just fine. She could say whatever she wanted, as long as Aoba got to stay sitting at this table. 

“I didn’t know Koujaku was gay,” Granny said thoughtfully. 

Aoba didn’t know what reply she was fishing for, so he said, “Me neither.” Granny chuckled. Remembering what Sei had said the day of the concert, Aoba glanced at him, but he didn’t say anything. Of course, he wasn’t going to announce that he had known about Aoba and Koujaku before even they had – because that would sound a little too much like bragging, which was something Sei didn’t do. 

“I suppose I’ll have to put up with that charmer coming over, eating all my cooking, and trying to flatter me to get more of it,” Granny said. “Aoba, why didn’t you just go live with him?”

Granny’s tone told Aoba that although the question had been tacked on to the end of her usual unserious griping, she genuinely wanted to know the answer to that question. Aoba chewed and swallowed slowly before answering, giving himself some time. Well, it would have made sense for the Aoba of two years ago to move in with Koujaku without consulting his family – if Koujaku could have put up with the Aoba of two years ago. But now… the simplest way to explain it was that Aoba had grown up. 

“I didn’t go live with Koujaku, because this time,” Aoba started, looking down at his plate. “This time, I want to date him, but I want to do it right. I was wrong to leave your house to be with someone you hated. I want to start over from the beginning and do what I should have done last time. To make you… proud of me.”

Aoba took a deep breath. When he dared look up, he saw Granny watching him impassively, spoon set down neatly in her now-empty bowl. Sei was glancing between Aoba and Granny nervously, like he expected something to happen. 

At length, Granny said, “Alright, fine. In that case, introduce him to me as your boyfriend officially. Got it?”

“Yes,” Aoba said meekly, and Granny’s lips twitched in a supressed smile. Aoba had the feeling that Koujaku would be incredibly flustered about the prospect of being introduced to Granny as Aoba’s boyfriend, and would probably freak out and do something dumb like buy her an expensive present and be overly flowery, but ah well. Aoba felt strangely nervous about the prospect, too, even though it was totally obvious that Granny would give the two of them her blessings. 

It also made him excited, a little bit anticipatory. Maybe this was what doing things right felt like.

“Thank goodness,” Sei said, looking genuinely happy. Aoba resisted the urge to kick him under the table for being overly sappy. Meanwhile, Granny was putting the empty miso bowls on the sideboard and putting the main dish – yakisoba – in front of them. Aoba picked up his chopsticks.

“Aoba, you should tell Granny about Platinum Jail,” Sei said. 

“Wait, I want to hear you guys’s news too,” Aoba said. But before Sei could reply, Granny held up her hand. 

“First, tell me. What became of Mink?” she said. 

Aoba swallowed, putting his chopsticks back down beside his plate. Was there a right answer to this question? It wasn’t like Aoba actually had a clue where Mink was now, although he could guess that Mink had gone back to the north Old Resident District with Scratch. 

“I don’t know where he is,” Aoba said honestly. “I saw him once in Platinum Jail, but…”

“Good, that’s all I needed to know,” Granny said as Aoba trailed off. She looked approving, too, so Aoba sighed with relief and ate some noodles to hide it. 

“So what’s this about Platinum Jail?” Granny asked. Aoba was about to launch into a description of Glitter when he had a thought. Ren and Cerise had been quiet for a while – probably because Ren was keeping Cerise entertained so the human members of the family could have a serious conversation. Looking over at the counter, Aoba saw Ren holding a shiny 10 yen piece over Cerise’s head. Cerise was making little swipes for it with her paws. Aoba didn’t have to wonder where Ren had gotten the coin from – it was probably just lying around – but he did wonder how long they had been playing the keep-away game for. Poor Ren was starting to get a little bored.

“Ren is going to help me tell this story,” Aoba said, watching in amusement as Ren dropped the 10 yen piece and Cerise pounced on it, then retreated behind the microwave to play with her treasure. 

“I am?” Ren said, sounding surprised. Sitting up politely on his hind legs, he added, “Very well. As you wish, Aoba.”

With that, the two of them launched into a description of the inside of Platinum Jail. Sei, who had been there himself, added comments when he wasn’t hanging on to Aoba’s every word. Cerise eventually emerged from behind the microwave and sat between Ren’s front paws, adding questions occasionally. As for Granny, she peppered the conversation with wry observations, mostly about how all the people in Platinum Jail sounded like they had altogether too much money and/or spare time. 

After dinner, the talk turned to Sei and Granny and what they had been up to. Aoba got out of Sei that he was getting about ready to wrap up his webcomic and start another, that he was trying to find a new day job because customer service was really not his thing, and that two days ago he had been video chatting with Clear. Sei blushed a little when he admitted to that one, and Granny and Aoba exchanged a look that made him flush even harder. 

As for Granny, her old friend Michiko had recently moved from the south to the east Resident District, and she had taught herself to make bird’s nest soup, just for fun. Oh, and Cerise’s whisker malfunction was the result of a mishap involving one of the fancy lights in Sei’s room, which had nearly resulted in the collapse of the entire system. Fortunately, Granny had intervened before anyone got electrocuted. Aoba figured this meant that he needed to go fix the lighting system again, as well as Cerise’s whiskers. 

Finally, Granny realised that it was 10:00 at night and shooed both Sei and Aoba upstairs, saying they could stay up if they wanted to but they had better not disturb an old lady’s rest with all their chatter. Although Aoba hadn’t planned on staying the night, now nothing in the world could have convinced him to do otherwise. Sei ushered Aoba into his room, where Aoba sat down on the bed. Ren curled up beside him, while Sei put Cerise into sleep mode and tenderly laid her in a little basket beside the desk. Meanwhile, Aoba looked around curiously to see what had changed in the many months since he'd been home. It was weird how the house could feel so familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

Sei sat down in the chair in front of his desk. Aoba was gratified to see, beside Sei's left elbow, the Cintiq was still sitting, evidently well cared-for.

"You mind if I message Koujaku real quick?" Aoba asked, since Koujaku had been expecting him to come home after dinner. 

"Oh, sure," Sei said, watching as Aoba pulled up his messaging app and sent a quick "Dinner went great they want me to stay the night so I'll see you tomorrow." to Koujaku. The reply came quickly: "Have fun. Miss you. X" Aoba smiled, because there was no point in trying to hide his emotions from Sei. Not that Aoba had ever seriously tried.

"I'm really glad you and Koujaku finally got together," Sei said earnestly. Aoba gave him an unamused look. 

"You don't have to keep reminding me that you already knew," he said. "You know, you could've told me that Koujaku liked me. Why didn't you?"

Sei looked a little doubtful, picking up the tablet pen from beside him and starting to fiddle with it in his palms. "Well... I thought he would tell you himself. Then you would've been mad if I spoiled it, right? But then you started dating Mink, and I didn't know what to do."

Seeing the downcast expression on Sei's face, Aoba realised that Sei actually felt _guilty_ about not having said anything. Like he was somehow responsible for the huge fuck-up that had been Aoba going to live with Mink. Aoba felt a pang, remembering and knowing how deeply his actions had hurt Sei and wondering how he could make up for them. 

Sei must have felt it too, because he looked up from the pen in his lap and said, "What's wrong?"

"You shouldn't blame yourself," Aoba said slowly, wondering if he could reassure Sei through their bond. Ah, screw it. Words would have to do. Aoba couldn't bear to see that downcast look on his brother's face for any longer than was necessary. "I went to live with Mink because he was good at getting me to stop... you know, being angry, and acting out, that kind of thing. And he did help me get better, right? So don't worry about it. None of this is your fault. I... I'm sorry I didn't come home sooner, that's all."

Strangely, Sei looked a little confused, flipping the pen over and over and scrunching his forehead up in concentration. "I thought..." Sei started. "You know, when you got that keyboard..."

"The keyboard?" Aoba prompted.

"You got the keyboard after you met Mink but before you were living him, I think," Sei said. "And it felt like that was when you started being more calm. I know that both things happened at once. But you're not with him anymore and you're fine, so I just thought... it was making music that helped you, not being with Mink."

 _Oh my god_ , Aoba thought to himself. Melodies rose to his mind unbidden - every single song he'd ever written on that keyboard. At the beginning, he'd just been making music for the sound. But now, every song contained a part of him, or at least that was how it felt. All the emotions that had been too big for young Aoba to handle were gone now, because they'd all been put into songs. Good god, but music had probably saved his life.

But what about his relationship with Mink? Had that all been for nothing? Aoba didn't honestly know. But he did feel a pang when he thought of Mink's face, knowing that a part of him would always wonder where Mink was and how he was doing, no matter how much he loved Koujaku. 

"I think you're right," Aoba said, staring at Sei in wonder. He felt like he had just seen his own reflection in the mirror for the very first time. "I can't believe it... Sei, how did you know? You're incredible."

Sei blushed a little. "No, I just felt it through our bond. I didn't do anything."

"You are so wrong," Aoba said confidently. He wanted to express how much Sei meant to him and how grateful he was that they could be having this conversation, but he didn't know how to find the words. Ah, but whether he could say it now or not didn't matter when he could write a song for Sei any time. _Tomorrow_ , he thought to himself. Tomorrow he would tell Koujaku about his promise to Granny properly, and tomorrow he would write a song, and it would be fantastic. He could feel it.

Some time later, Aoba retreated to his own bedroom for the first time in months. He sat down on the bed, but knew he was far too excited to go to sleep. So instead, he went out onto the balcony and looked out over the streets of Midorijima. Ren, who was still powered on, trotted out along with him and sat down next to Aoba’s feet.

The sky was dusty with smog, the stars hardly visible, nothing like the glittering skies of Platinum Jail. The great wall loomed, although it was less oppressive and dark than it had been from Mink’s apartment. From far away, Aoba could hear the sounds of cars. Every siren echoed like a chorus, the rumble of tyres a low base harmony that Aoba couldn’t quite catch. His blood pounded through his veins like drums, and even the wind sounded like it was singing. 

Just like when Aoba was young, it felt like the night was calling to him, deep, alive, and hungry. He wanted to break out of this tiny house, or out of this smoky city, or go get totally smashed or go beat someone up or go smoke something nasty – or go write a song. Aoba wanted to write another song. Before he could panic at feeling old, familiar destructive emotions rising within him, he found himself turning to his Coil and opening the memo pad so he could mark down a couple notes. Taking two deep breaths of cool air in through his nose, he hummed softly to himself. 

Just as swiftly as it had come, the feeling dissipated into sound. And so, Aoba Seragaki put his back to the night and turned towards home. The music flowed from his fingertips and into the world, his whole body a conduit for something lovely and living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> " _And the call isn't out there at all, it's inside me..._ " [[x](https://youtu.be/e2Lm1-W0jow)]  
> Also, [chapter title](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QpFXXPruuqU).


	35. Epilogue

_Sky blue sky, beautiful and unbroken, vast and deep, the air fresh, sweet, and clean. Bluejay saw it opening before him, and his heart was filled with joy._

_“Fly with me,” said Redbird._

_And though Bluejay was famed for his voice, he had no words to say how much he wanted to join his Prince in the sky. Instead, he opened his wings._

[ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gt8qq4zyTJ4)


	36. Bonus Content

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contents of this chapter:  
> 1\. Annotated table of contents  
> 2\. Official timeline  
> 3\. Original outline of Milky Weeds  
> 4\. Bonus KouAo AUs  
> 5\. Stats, links, and credits  
> 

**ANNOTATED TABLE OF CONTENTS**  
_I kinda hate it when I go back to read a long fic and I can't figure out where all the good parts are. I don't know what people think the good parts of my fic are, but I've made an annotated table of contents so you can find any section you want much more easily. Koujaku POV chapters are marked with a **K** , and chapters that are just notes/letters or Bluejay stuff are marked as "Note"._

Ch1 (Prologue) - Note.  
Ch2 (Common Route) - Introduces Noiz (phone call to Heibon), Clear, Sei (comes to Heibon), Mink and his motorcycle (on a "date"). Aoba wonders why his day was so bad and Ren comforts him.  
Ch3 (Gold) - Aoba has sex with Mink and it does nothing for him. Then he has a sensual dream about Koujaku and is surprised about how vivid it is.  
Ch4 (Prince Redbird) - Aoba writes a song about Koujaku called "Fighting!" and invents the character of Prince Redbird. The song gets popular overnight and Noiz encourages him to capitalize on it.  
Ch5 (A Bitter Spice, **K** ) - Koujaku goes to Mizuki's bar and is introduced to Aoba's song "Redbird's Vision". Later he listens to it after a nightmare and gets hooked. Then he goes to dinner with the Seragaki family and Sei tells him about the visit to Heibon.  
Ch6 (Get Up) - Mink comes home to find Aoba on the computer, punches him across the face, and nearly breaks Ren. Aoba resolves to leave Mink because of it.  
Ch7 (Good End) - Aoba messages his friends and asks for help. Clear volunteers to come get him and drive him to his home on the mainland. On the way to Clear's house, Aoba breaks down in a parking lot over leaving Mink.  
Ch8 (The Note That Aoba Left) - Note.  
Ch9 (Guilt) - Aoba investigates Clear's house, gets his first message from Kansuzume, and video calls Sei to tell him what happened.  
Ch10 (A Sparrow In Winter, **K** ) - Koujaku gets Sly Blue's message, hangs out with Beni Shigure (who are named after fruits), and goes to dinner with the Seragakis. Sei chases Mink away with Scrap.  
Ch11 (June) - Aoba uses Scrap on the keyboard technician, Clear sings the Jellyfish Song for him, and Noiz asks him if he's ever going to get with Koujaku.  
Ch12 (Missed Him, **K** ) - Mizuki tells Koujaku about Sly Blue escaping Midorijima, then comes out of the closet.  
Ch13 (July) - Aoba writes some songs.  
Ch14 (August) - Aoba tells Clear his tragic backstory and how he came to live with Mink.  
Ch15 (Makeru Na) - Aoba listens to Mink's messages, gets mad, and decides to find a job on Midorijima.  
Ch16 (Weeds) - Mink POV. Mink finds Aoba's broken piano keys and realises he needs to search for Aoba online since he has disappeared from Midorijima.  
Ch17 (The Monocle) - Aoba finishes "Koujaku" and gets offered a job in Platinum Jail. He tells Clear and his other friends and promises to fix Clear's car.  
Ch18 (Good Start) - Clear takes Aoba to the famous Miho no Matsubara beach, then cries on his shoulder. Finally they arrive at Platinum Jail, and Aoba calls Sei.  
Ch19 (Letters) - Note.  
Ch20 (Message Received, **K** ) - Noiz tells Koujaku that Sly Blue is in trouble and asks him to go to Platinum Jail to rescue him.  
Ch21 (Koujaku, **K** ) - Koujaku travels to Platinum Jail, gets Sly Blue's address from the Monocle, and then goes to his house, which is deserted.  
Ch22 (A Light In The Hallway, **K** ) - Exploring the house, Koujaku realises someone is in the upstairs bedroom.  
Ch23 (At Last, **K** ) - Koujaku and Aoba re-unite! Then Koujaku messages Mizuki.  
Ch24 (Catch The Fall) - Aoba calls the Monocle, has a nap, and then explains how he is Bluejay to Koujaku.  
Ch25 (Please This, **K** ) - Koujaku watches Aoba perform, then messages Mizuki for advice on how to handle his crush.  
Ch26 (True Route) - Aoba admits that Koujaku is Redbird, and Koujaku tells him about the tattoos. Aoba uses Scrap to make Koujaku feel better and they have their first kiss.  
Ch27 (Dating Start) - Aoba tells Ren what happened, overhears Beni and Koujaku arguing, and goes to an arcade with Koujaku.  
Ch28 (Milky Way) - Mink shows up at the Monocle. He and Aoba argue, then Koujaku comes and helps Aoba chase him away for good.  
Ch29 (Work In Progress) - Aoba writes a song wip and reads a conversation Koujaku had with his online friends the night before re: Mink.  
Ch30 (Rose Gold) - Aoba and Koujaku _finally_ have sex for real.  
Ch31 (Until You Will Return, **K** ) - Koujaku goes back to Midorijima, hangs out with Beni Shigure, and tells Mizuki what happened. Aoba tells their online friends too.  
Ch32 (Only Finally There Is The Free End) - Aoba's friends come over for his concert. Starts with Koujaku, then Aoba's reunion with Sei, then Aoba performs at the club, then Mizuki interrogates him at dinner, then Noiz offers him a job, then he goes home and hears Clear singing to Sei, and finally he talks to Ren about the future before falling asleep with Koujaku again.  
Ch33 (The Letter Aoba Sent Home With Sei) - Note.  
Ch34 (Clearest Blue) - Aoba finally goes back home to Granny and Sei. Granny forgives him, they all have dinner together, and Aoba is happy.  
Ch35 (Epilogue) - Note.  
Ch36 (Bonus Content) - You Are Here!

 

\-----

 **OFFICIAL TIMELINE**  
April 22 - Aoba's 20th birthday. Sei gives him the midi controller as a present  
May (middle) - Aoba starts work at Heibon  
November (beginning) - Aoba buys the midi keyboard  
December (beginning) - Aoba goes to live with Mink  
April 22 - Aoba's 21st birthday  
May (beginning) - Aoba creates Bluejay at the insistance of Clear and Noiz  
June (middle) - Aoba leaves Mink and goes to live with Clear  
September (beginning) - Aoba moves to Platinum Jail and starts work at the Monocle  
November/December - Mink finds Aoba at the Monocle and Koujaku has to go help him  
December (beginning) - Koujaku and Aoba start (un)officially dating  
March (middle) - Aoba's concert for all of his friends, Noiz offers him a job  
April 22 - Aoba's 22nd birthday  
September (middle) - Aoba returns home to Tae-san and Sei

\---  
**ORIGINAL OUTLINE OF MILKY WEEDS**  
_I first wrote an outline for this fic on the 21st of December, 2014 - almost exactly two years to the day I finished the last chapter on December 19th, 2016! At the time, the fic was very different than the version you ended up reading. Here are my original notes for the fic that could have been, ripped wholesale from my writing document, "the dmmd fic idea"._

Whoo a DMMD fic I am never going to write yes

-Aoba is living (unhappily) with Mink, who is of course abusing him like there’s no tomorrow (why does anyone like this guy anyway)  
-One day he’s cooking in the kitchen and Mink is out, when he hears a knock at the door  
-Oh look it’s Granny, and she is PISSED  
-She tells Aoba to pack his stuff, which he does, though he doesn’t know why  
-Anyway she takes him home.

-Now he thinks of going back to Mink. He’s worried for his life, but also thinks that he’s endangering his grandmother, and he doesn’t think he’s worth anything after what Mink did to him. But Granny refuses to let him leave the house unless it’s to get a job or something.  
-He starts making music on his computer. He has a DJ name like Bluejay or something (Ren is Pip) and all the songs he makes relate to his life somehow, but he keeps himself very mysterious and anonymous. To his surprise he starts garnering a fanbase, most of whom want to know why he’s so sad. (He messages some fans and also his icon is some kind of damaged heart).  
-Noiz makes a cameo as a fan??

-One day Aoba decides to take a l’il walk through town.  
-He runs into Koujaku who’s like dude where u been I missed u  
-In spite of Aoba’s misgivings, he somehow finds himself inviting Koujaku home to eat dinner with him like old days. It’s fun and he feels better in Koujaku’s company for the first time in ages. 

-Thereafter he takes many walks through town, and somehow always finds himself bringing Koujaku home for dinner.  
-One night he overhears Koujaku and Granny talking. Options for what they say is varied, but they are not limited to:  
_____○ “I love him what do I do” “Oh just give it some time”  
_____○ “I’m worried about Aoba” “Yeah me too”  
_____○ “So about that guard of Beni-Shigure that’s been watching over Aoba”  
-Whatever he hears makes him decide to leave. I think because he doesn’t want to endanger Beni-Shigure.  
-He’s now sufficiently popular as a musician to get a gig in Platinum Jail. In this universe, Toue’s pretty much benign.  
-Anyhoo, because Toue is also a fan, they offer him a nice house at Glitter. He runs away to there immediately and starts thinking about all his life choices. He wonders if he should just skip town entirely and go to the mainland. Part of him says Mink will follow him wherever he goes. He’ll miss Granny and Koujaku. But he doesn’t want to be a burden anymore. And… he wants to start over. He doesn’t want to be the boy that Mink owned. 

-Thanks to some advertising, both Granny and Koujaku become aware that Bluejay will be playing at Platinum Jail. This means nothing to either of them until Granny finds something in Aoba’s room that tips her off to Aoba’s other identity as Bluejay. She tips Koujaku off and they cook up a plan to get him into Platinum Jail.

-Koujaku shows up at Glitter.  
-Aoba is astounded. At first he’s a little upset, but he’s secretly really glad to see Koujaku. So glad that when Koujaku goes out to buy them some food or something, Aoba writes a new song about him, and it’s the first happy song he’s ever written. Aoba doesn’t know what it means, but it’s something. (Koujaku is Prince Redbird in the little bird universe Aoba’s created, by the way. Mink is Cockatiel or something, after his Allmate.)  
-Aoba and Koujaku have various adventures around town. Relationship-building stuff, you know. 

-The concert happens. It goes over really well. Maybe Aoba even convinces Koujaku to appear in costume as Prince Redbird when he plays the new song for the first time. Anyway, the audience laps it up.  
-As Aoba is leaving, who should be there but… you guessed it. The devil-spawn himself. IDK how he figured out Bluejay was Aoba. Maybe he got wise and just followed Koujaku or something.  
-He grabs Aoba by the hair and says they’re leaving. Aoba wants to scream but he doesn’t want to disturb Koujaku, or something, idk. He tries reasoning with Mink and that doesn’t go over well. Mink basically says, “You’re mine forever, bitch.”  
-Aoba is about to give in when he remembers Koujaku’s words to Granny (the whole “I love him” thing) and realises that Koujaku was talking about him (or something). Then he screams his lungs out and tries fighting Mink. But is it too late?!?!?!!!111!!?!?!  
-No, it is not. Anyway, Koujaku shows up, along with some members of Beni-Shigure and some dudes from Dry Juice (he put the entire city’s Rib teams on alert against Mink) and they beat Mink up and hopefully get him arrested.  
-Aoba is traumatised after all this, of course, so Koujaku takes him home and patches him up. Then Aoba asks Koujaku about his feelings and they have a little romantic moment aww how nice.  
-After this they are together. They may or may not move to the mainland. The end. 

_A/N: Isn't it interesting how different it was? Granny rescued Aoba instead of Aoba asking for his friends' help to leave. Noiz, and Mizuki are barely even mentioned. Noiz has a cameo. A_ cameo _. And Clear and Sei are just straight-up not there. I was barely even sure that Mink would be called Cockatiel. I like the version that I ended up writing much better, for two reasons: one, I like that Aoba now has a whole bunch of friends; and two, I think the new version gives more agency to Aoba. However, the one thing about the original fic that's probably better is that Koujaku physically shows up in Aoba's life before the half-way point. Because there were fewer characters, it probably would have been shorter, too._

 _I'm not going to show you the second draft of the outline, because it's pretty much the same as the fic you read. There are only a few interesting things in it, such as:_  
○ It’s explicitly stated that the Cockatiel could open the cage, but chooses not too.  
○ "Bluejay is in love with his childhood friend Redbird, but that his fantasies about him are nothing more than a dream he uses to keep himself going through the pain of his real life." ( _how emo..._ )  
○ "In a fit of rage, Mink breaks some of Aoba’s equipment. When Aoba posts about it online, Clear, Noiz, and Mizuki (new fan) all make plans to get Aoba the heck out of there, without telling him. After Aoba buys some new equipment, Noiz springs the plan on him and insists that he accept. Aoba wants desperately to leave, but he also doesn’t want to abandon Mink. Noiz convinces him to take a “vacation” and see what happens, so Clear comes on a motorcycle with a trailer to get Aoba and bring him to his house. When they first arrive, Aoba feels drained and anxious, but then he gets an email – someone wants him to come play music in their club. Aoba has been slowly accumulating money from donations on his Soundcloud (or whatever it is) but it seems like a great honour to him. He really wants to do it, so Clear convinces him that it’ll make Mink proud of him when he goes back." ( _as you can see, Aoba was much more dependent on Mink, which is probably more realistic_ )  
○ Aoba is tempted to sleep with Clear, but doesn’t want to corrupt his innocence. ( _OH MY GOD CAN YOU IMAGINE IF I HAD WRITTEN THIS_ )  
○ Koujaku was jealous and insecure enough to think that Redbird was some real guy other than himself.  
○ [ _Original take on KouAo love scene_ ] They take it upstairs, where Aoba suddenly becomes shy and reluctant to take off his shirt. Koujaku is afraid he’s done something wrong, but Aoba slowly pulls up the hem of his shirt to reveal the scars he got from Mink. There are not many, but the fact that they exist at all enrages Koujaku. But he realises that Aoba’s fear takes precedence over his own anger. To reassure Aoba he pulls back the hair around his face and shows Aoba his tattoo for the first time. He tells Aoba that Aoba was right, and they are really both the same. Aoba has scars, and Koujaku has tattoos. ( _I totally changed that..._ )

_I like the way the fic turned out. What about you? Do you have a different opinion on which version is best?_

\---  
**BONUS AOBA X KOUJAKU AU'S**  
_These are KouAo AUs that I came up with while writing Milky Weeds. Right now I do not intend to write any of them. If you are interested, you_ may _write all or part of these fics yourself. **However, you MUST credit me, link me, and tell me about it.** And if you post the fic to AO3, please check off the 'work inspired by' box and link directly to this fic, Milky Weeds. Thank you._

 ** _~*~Birdman Aoba~*~_**  
○ We are in the Japanese feudal era, or something like it. Koujaku was possessed by an evil spirit and slaughtered a village/his family. Because of this, he goes to live alone in the mountains to pay penance for his deeds, intending to live as a hermit with no human contact for the rest of his life. But after a few months of building a hut and farming the land, he realises that he’s being watched. Surprise, it’s Aoba, and Aoba has wings now (and possibly claw-feet and? a tail as well). Aoba belongs to a ~secret birdman society~ who lives in caves in the mountain, including Sei and Clear (mated), Granny, Mizuki, and some other people too I guess. Aoba is initially very curious about Koujaku, which is why he was watching him, having only heard stories about or caught faint glimpses of regular humans before. He’s also a little shy, but eventually comes down from his treetops to talk to Koujaku. Equally curious, Koujaku gradually gets to know Aoba, thinking at first that Aoba might need his help, but then becoming fascinated with Aoba’s people’s culture.  
○ One day, Koujaku realises that he and Aoba are too close – and that Koujaku’s completely forgotten about his vow of solitude. He doesn’t know what to do, because he doesn’t know anywhere else to go, Aoba might follow him, and frankly, leaving Aoba would be impossibly hard at this point. In the meantime, Koujaku.exe stops working and he retreats to his hut and won’t come out while he thinks about the problem. Aoba breaks into his house, demands to know what’s going on, and accidentally provokes rage!Koujaku. Clear and Sei are called in to perform an exorcism. Koujaku wakes up and finds his house trashed and a little red bird spirit named Beni apologising for having possessed him (lol). At first Koujaku thinks he should be kicked off the mountain or killed, but Aoba forgives him and invites him to come live in the bird caves for the winter, since the hut is wrecked.  
○ Bonus points for Kou and Hagima coming to find Koujaku, discovering the empty hut, and then Koujaku flies down on a glider and tells them he’s happily married to a blue birdman now. Then he offers them his hut. 

**_~*~Aoba tattoo fix-it AU~*~_**  
○ Based on the fic [The Deepest Stain](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1042925/chapters/2084253), where Ryuuhou gives Aoba a tattoo of an amaranth flower, for "eternal friendship". I really liked the fic and I want to see the aftermath, so here's how I envisage it going down:  
○ Ryuuhou's tattoo obviously confers upon Aoba a curse, most likely that of being unable to love. In my version, Aoba makes it back to Glitter on his own, where he makes an attempt to explain to Koujaku what happened, eats something, then falls asleep on the sofa. The next day Aoba and Koujaku talk a little bit, and Aoba wants to have a shower but he can’t face the prospect of seeing himself alone, so Koujaku offers to go with him (in a completely platonic way). They exchange ‘look at my tattoo’ moments. Koujaku wants to hunt down and kill Ryuuhou, and Aoba just never wants to see him again.  
○ They leave Platinum Jail without encountering Ryuuhou again. Aoba goes home and starts wearing turtlenecks, and of course, nobody notices a thing. Now they are home on Midorijima, Aoba totally isn't reacting how Koujaku expected, but Koujaku is still concerned about him. For some reason, Aoba seems to be really, really out of it these days, like something inside of him just snapped and now he's living inside his head. The more Koujaku tries to engage him, the worse it seems to get. What's going on in Aoba's head? Well, unlike Koujaku, he can actually feel Ryuuhou's spell living on him like a separate entity, and he's constantly fighting a battle inside his head to push it out of his body. (Use a cool metaphor with a giant mutant Amaranth plant and l'il Sly Blue the knight??) When Koujaku shows up Sly Blue gets weaker because the curse reacts to suppress Aoba's feelings of love for Koujaku. It seems like either Aoba can defeat the spell _or_ love Koujaku, not both.  
○ Seeing Aoba continue to break down, Koujaku drags him back to the ruins of Platinum Jail and takes up the search for Ryuuhou harder than he ever had before. Finally, they find Ryuuhou on the mainland. Ryuuhou does his villain shtick and needles Koujaku until he loses control. His fear for Koujaku gives Aoba something new to fight for, but he feels like he's locked into a total paralysis. Just before Koujaku does something terrible, Aoba comes back to himself and takes full possession of his body, tattoo and all. Gold light shines from the tattoo as well as his eyes as he uses Scrap on Ryuuhou to totally annihilate him.  
○ Aftermath: now that the spell on Aoba is broken, he confesses his love to Koujaku and they return to Midorijima. Coincidentally, the spell on Koujaku is broken, too, whether from Ryuuhou's death or Aoba's interference it's hard to say. Everyone lives happily ever after, except for Ryuuhou, because he's dead. 

**_~*~Virus & Trip route, Aoba fixes himself AU~*~_**  
○ I will never write this AU because I fucking hate Virus and Trip. Note that I have never watched the monstrosity people call Virus and Trip’s “route”, nor do I intend to.  
○ Anyway, while Aoba is suffering at the hands of Virus and Trip, he becomes able to make contact with Sly Blue inside his own head. Sly Blue has been fronting for Aoba in the worst moments so they’re both still relatively sane, but even he agrees that this is unbearable and they need to get the fuck out of there. Together, they cook up a really risky plan to escape. The plan depends mostly on Aoba’s knowledge of Allmate innards: when Virus and Trip are away, he manages to de-activate their two sentinel Allmates by either resetting them to factory default or playing them against each other. Then he steals Hersha, steals some of Virus and Trip’s clothing, and escapes into the night.  
○ Outside, he is dazed and disoriented, not knowing where he is or how long it’s been since he was outside. Plus, his body is weak, hardly able to move without pain. Sly Blue provides the willpower to force him to flee from their house and into the north old resident district. The next morning he wakes up and finds out that his hair has turned white. He can hardly believe he is free, and doesn’t know what to do or where to go. All he has to help him is a re-set Hersha, who is totally unhelpful. Over the next few days, Aoba’s hair turns blonde, which is devastating to Aoba because it reminds him of their hair. He has no way to live and no will to, either, barely able to remember what he was escaping for. For a while, he scrapes by on petty thievery. Finally, memories of his old life begin to surface as the trauma of imprisonment slowly, slowly fades. Aoba tells himself that he didn’t escape just so he could become a person like Virus and Trip or continue living as if he were their prisoner. He finally works up the courage to go into town and get a job at an Allmate repair shop.  
○ Aoba has a hard time adjusting to normal life, but he makes use of Hersha by taking off his lion fur/outer appearance, and replacing it with one for an overlarge dog, then substituting his personality chip for a therapy dog’s. He also starts collecting reject/overly broken Allmates from the repair shop, substituting them for a family. He considers contacting his real family or friends, but doesn’t think they would want him anymore, tainted as he is. But he still wants to know how they are doing, even if he can’t talk to them. It’s then that he finds out that Koujaku is somehow in danger from something – either the yakuza or Virus & Trip themselves. Aoba becomes Koujaku’s guardian angel, quietly protecting him without his knowledge.  
○ Then Koujaku catches him in the act of doing something heroic on Koujaku’s behalf and then insists on talking to him and helping him in return. Slowly he helps Aoba integrate himself back into regular society. Aoba falls in love with him, but is terrified of his own feelings. Fortunately, Koujaku handles it like a champ. By the end of the story, Aoba’s hair turns red like Koujaku’s everything. Also, Virus and Trip get dead in a horrible way or otherwise suffer eternally, because I can. 

**_~*~Vampire AU~*~_**  
○ Based on the DMMD official Halloween costumes. [[or at least this person's drawing](http://stuffedtofu.tumblr.com/post/152434333948/i-love-their-halloween-design-so-much-so-this) \- NSFW]  
○ Koujaku is a traditional vampire, who’s been around since the Edo period and is important enough to be mentioned in schools as one of the first no-kill vampires (his method was to have sex with women in return for their blood… lol). Aoba is a young incubus (or succubus? not sure which one is which tbh) who somehow ends up in Koujaku’s castle. Koujaku is immune to Aoba’s charms because they are both vampires, and Aoba can’t die from having his blood sucked because they are both vampires. You can see where this is going. (Kinky sex, is where it's going.)

 ** _~*~Yakuza work for Toue AU~*~_**  
○ Koujaku is assigned to “protect” (spy on) one of the two infamous Seragaki twins who belong to Toue. He is given this job because his special tattoos protect him from being mind-controlled, or so they think. In this AU, he will go into a rage if someone tries to use mind control over him (and not if he just gets pissed), which they hope will be a deterrent to Aoba using Scrap. Koujaku doesn’t know the first thing about Aoba and Sei except that they’re spoilt and rich, and he hates Aoba on sight. He catches Aoba making a drug deal with someone, tries to get him in trouble for it, and then looks like an idiot when Aoba is drug tested and found to be completely clean, forever. Aoba confronts Koujaku and asks why he didn’t just mind his own business, and lets slip that he doesn’t actually like Toue and feels trapped. This makes Koujaku realise that maybe Aoba is being held here against his will but doesn’t deserve to be… which is exactly what is going on.  
○ After getting more information about Aoba, he learns: Aoba has a bad-boy image because he didn’t actually live at Toue Tower until four years ago, when they picked him up off the street. Sei is taken care of by a bunch of alpha robots because his mind control is so strong even tattoos won’t save you, but robots are immune (Aoba later lets slip that Clear is special and has a real personality, and Clear is Sei’s head guard in the alpha hierarchy). Theoretically, people like Ryuuhou and ViTri could end up in this fic too. Koujaku starts feeling that Aoba is like him and wishes he could help him. One day, Ren is taken from Aoba and sent to Noiz for something Aoba doesn’t want done, so Koujaku sees his chance to make it up to Aoba for his past behaviour and makes a deal with Noiz (who is chaotic neutral in this scenario). Originally I had it that Mizuki, as Koujaku’s friend, would offer to sleep with Noiz in return for Ren’s safe return to Koujaku. But it would be pretty tragic if Koujaku himself had to sleep with Noiz, wouldn’t it. And then it awakens Koujaku’s realisation that he’s actually kinda gay… not that he likes Noiz or anything.  
○ Anyway, Koujaku returns Ren to Aoba unscathed, and Koujaku and Aoba have a ~moment~. They get through other trials together (like Koujaku’s half-brother Saijoni, who is terrible and who I just made up) and eventually find themselves kissing in Aoba’s room. Aoba doesn’t want to sleep with Koujaku in his room because he hates Toue Tower, so Koujaku pulls some more strings to get them to a love hotel. Eventually someone finds out Koujaku and Aoba are sleeping together, triggers Koujaku’s transformation, and tries to get Aoba to kill him. Instead, Aoba uses Scrap on Koujaku in the middle of the fight (he redirects Koujaku’s rage from trying to kill him to trying to fuck him, then uses the opportunity to look him in the eyes and enter his mind) and they have to take advantage of Koujaku’s strength in the few moments before the transformation wears off to break out of the cage they’re in. Aoba and Sei combine their powers to use Scrap on the whole tower, then run away with Koujaku, Sei, and a couple of other people who escape with them. 

 

\---  
**STATS, LINKS, & CREDITS**  
**_~*~Fic stats~*~_**  
**_AO3_**  
○ Total word count: 121,688  
○ Total word count plus bonus content, author's notes, and worldbuilding notes: ~130,000  
○ Fic first outlined: 21/12/2014  
○ Fic began: ~20/08/2016  
○ Fic first posted: 04/09/2016  
○ Fic completed (without edits): 19/12/2016  
○ Approximate time to completion: 4 months  
○ Bonus content (final chapter) posted: 24/12/2016  
○ Comment threads at time of completion: 76  
○ Kudos at time of completion: 61  
○ Hits at time of completion: 1086  
○ Bookmarks at time of completion: 6 (you're killing me, you guys)  
**_(As of date completed, relative to AO3) This fic is..._**  
○ The longest KouAo fic and the 3rd longest fic in the Dramatical Murder - All Media Types tag  
○ The 13th most commented fic in the DMMD - AMT tag (although many of those comments were written by me as replies to your comments!)  
○ The 2nd most commented KouAo fic  
○ On page 11/28 in the KouAo tag when sorted by hits or bookmarks  
**_(Personal stats)_**  
○ This fic is the longest thing I have ever written (bigger than [Fateswap](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2061705/chapters/4481307) \+ [Fateswap Beyond](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3437168/chapters/7534301) by about 35K)  
○ It is my 3rd most popular fic from 2016, but it's not popular enough to appear on the graph of my most popular works of all time.  
○ It is my 3rd most subscribed fic of all time, but it only has 16 subscribers, so that's not saying much. 

**_~*~Links~*~_**  
_related to Milky Weeds_  
○ [Mink/MinAo playlist](http://8tracks.com/rogueofheart/m-nk)  
○ KouAo playlist [part one](http://8tracks.com/rogueofheart/sky-blue-sky-part-1), [part two](http://8tracks.com/rogueofheart/sky-blue-sky-part-2-1)  
○ [Sky Blue Sky concert playlist](https://playmoss.com/en/rogueofheart/playlist/sky-blue-sky-full-concert)  
○ [Ribsteez meta](http://voxiferous.tumblr.com/post/150946550562/for-my-ongoing-kouao-fanfic-ive-made-up-some)  
○ [Platinum Jail meta](http://voxiferous.tumblr.com/post/151963007892/platinum-jail-worldbuilding)  
○ [Mizuki dream](http://voxiferous.tumblr.com/post/152472134212/i-dreamed-i-was-aoba-and-in-love-with-koujaku-but)  
_other yaoi I've written_  
○ [You Know The Fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6184306) \- One Punch Man (SaiGenos, 28K)  
○ [Get Over Yourself](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7128788) \- One Punch Man (Batarou)  
○ [Fateswap](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2061705/chapters/4481307) \- No. 6 (Nezushi, 68K)  
○ [Off-Script](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6047607) \- OFF (Battarie, 20K)  
○ [Summer Daze](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2132187) \- Neon Genesis Evangelion (Kawoshin)  
○ I haven't written any other DMMD works, but if you like Nezushi (No. 6) or KatNep (Homestuck) I highly advise you to check out the rest of my writing!  
_other songs which inspired this fic_  
○ [Ai Catch](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gZC76aQqxuc) \- Goatbed  
○ [Radical Mat](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4d7TXwxwLAU) \- Goatbed  
○ [A Light In The Hallway](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xlppyBJhLnc) \- Pentatonix  
○ [Rose Gold](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2vRWmLpRVlo) \- Pentatonix  
○ [Clearest Blue](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QpFXXPruuqU) \- CHVRCHES  
○ [Return](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ApdkDCkIZ10) \- Alexander Rybak  
○ I also referenced Undertale, Homestuck, and Moana (lol). 

**_~*~Credits~*~_ **  
○ The Koujaku-busts-Mink's-route premise is not unique to me. I know that other authors have written it before. But I assure you I didn't intentionally imitate anyone in particular.  
○ The idea of Bluejay and of Aoba being Sly Blue the internet musician were developed by me without any inspiration/outside input. Do not write about Bluejay without crediting me.  
○ [Fanart](http://voxiferous.tumblr.com/post/153792251457/hereoctopusdumplings-for-akumeoi-and-their) by the amazing Blacksprut/hereoctopusdumplings.  
○ All music by Goatbed unless otherwise stated.  
○ Music player image from [geokal81 on DeviantART](http://geokal81.deviantart.com/art/mini-music-player-303023212).  


\---

**POST-CREDITS BONUS ~~SCENE~~ CHAT LOG**

**RuffRabbit:** hello? is anyone out there  
**RuffRabbit:** I swear, getting news out of you people is like getting blood out of a stone  
**mizu_hi:** what out of a what now  
**RuffRabbit:** insert Japanese idiom of your choice here, preferably one that expresses my great disappointment that the only one of you five clowns who tells me anything about their life lately is Aoba, and I pay him to do things like that  
**Crystal_Jelly:** I messaged you yesterday, Noiz-san. Would you like me to message you more regularly?  
**Crystal_Jelly:** I will have to start scheduling times in my calendar, since I already message you every single day.  
**RuffRabbit:** oh, I forgot about you  
**RuffRabbit:** you're fine, don't worry about it  
**indelibleIllustrator:** i messaged you yesterday also...  
**RuffRabbit:** okay and you too, I guess  
**RuffRabbit:** Koujaku  
**RuffRabbit:** I'm mostly just complaining about Koujaku  
**indelibleIllustrator:** so am i still a clown then?  
**RuffRabbit:** sure. everyone is a clown except me. but Koujaku is definitely the head clown right now. I bet he is the one who drives the clown car.  
**RuffRabbit:** I bet it looks really stupid, too.  
**Kansuzume:** You are the most childish person I have ever had the misfortune of meeting.  
**mizu_hi:** im p sure n was just insulting u to see if u would show up  
**mizu_hi:** n u walked right into that one  
**SlyBlue:** Well maybe if you told Koujaku what you wanted to talk to him about he would have showed up faster! We were in the middle of something you know!  
**RuffRabbit:** good for you. tell me the news  
**SlyBlue:** The news is that our lives are exactly the same as they were yesterday thank you very much.  
**RuffRabbit:** and here I thought you were going to introduce Koujaku to your grandmother last night  
**RuffRabbit:** what happened? did you chicken out  
**Kansuzume:** It went fine.  
**indelibleIllustrator:** it went great! granny even made doughnuts but both koujaku and aoba looked really nervous. it was hilarious!  
**mizu_hi:** thats adorable  
**RuffRabbit:** do go on  
**Crystal_Jelly:** _Omedetou_ , Aoba and Koujaku-san!  
**SlyBlue:** All of you are horrible except for Clear.  
**Crystal_Jelly:** I don't understand why everybody seems to think that.  
**mizu_hi:** probabs bc its true  
**indelibleIllustrator:** hey dont you have some other news Koujaku?  
**indelibleIllustrator:** i mean about Kou and Hagima.  
**Kansuzume:** Well, they did come out as a couple, if that's what you're talking about.  
**mizu_hi:** so what actually happened is that someone in beni shigure caught koujaku n aoba kissin in the bathroom n so then kou n hagima were all  
**mizu_hi:** hey if our captain is gay then we r allowed to be too  
**mizu_hi:** so now all of beni shigure knows that koujaku n aoba r a thing but yea  
**mizu_hi:** kou n hagima r a thing now too  
**RuffRabbit:** that's hilarious  
**RuffRabbit:** was anyone pissed  
**SlyBlue:** That we are dating? No I don't think so.  
**Kansuzume:** I already knew about Kou and Hagima. I just didn't want to say anything in case they were uncomfortable talking about it.  
**SlyBlue:** To tell you the truth I think maybe everyone else already knew about them too.  
**indelibleIllustrator:** they were all pretty surprised about koujaku and aoba though.  
**mizu_hi:** me too you know  
**SlyBlue:** We know.  
**Kansuzume:** We know.  
**RuffRabbit:** lol  
**Kansuzume:** So is this interrogation over?  
**RuffRabbit:** are you trying to leave already?  
**Kansuzume:** When I said we were in the middle of something, I meant that Tae-san asked us to fix the oven.  
**mizu_hi:** oh i totally thought u guys were doing something inapropro  
**RuffRabbit:** lol me too  
**Crystal_Jelly:** Aoba is very good at fixing things. He fixed a lot of things in my house. It makes sense that Tae-san would ask him to fix the oven. But I did not know that Koujaku-san was also similarly gifted.  
**Kansuzume:** I'm holding the screwdriver.  
**indelibleIllustrator:** do you guys need help?  
**SlyBlue:** I think I got this.  
**RuffRabbit:** fine, me and clear and mizuki and sei will just finish this conversation by ourselves, then  
**SlyBlue:** Have fun!  
**Kansuzume:** Bye, guys.  
**Crystal_Jelly:** Goodbye!  
**RuffRabbit:** bye  
**mizu_hi:** bye  
**indelibleIllustrator:** bye!  


**~*~THE END~*~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I want for Christmas is comments on this fic.


End file.
